THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


MORE    TISH 

MARY  ROBERTS  RINEHART 


THE  WORKS  OF 

MARY  ROBERTS 
RINEHART 


MORE    TISH    and 

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THE  REVIEW  OF  REVIEWS   COMPANY 

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PUBLISHED  BY  AEBANOBMBNT   WITH  OBOROB  H.  DOBIN   COMPANY. 


Copyright, 
By  George  H.  Doran  Company 


Copyright,  1912,  1917,  1919, 
By  The  Curtis  Publishing  Company 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


•Library 

-ps 
35.35 


CONTENTS 

I 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT 

III 


SALVAGE 


PAOK 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD    ..... 

II 


161 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUT) 


MORE  TISH 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD 


IT  is  doubtful  if  Aggie  and  I  would  have  known 
anything  about  Tish's  plan  had  Aggie  not 
seen  the  advertisement  in  the  newspaper.  She 
came  to  my  house  at  once  in  violent  excitement 
and  with  her  bonnet  over  her  ear,  and  gave  me 
the  newspaper  clipping  to  read.  It  said : 

"WANTED:  A  small  donkey.  Must  be  gentle, 
female,  and  if  possible  answer  to  the  name  of 
Modestine.  Address  X  27,  Morning  News." 

"Well,"  I  said  when  I  had  read  it,  "did  you  in 
sert  the  advertisement  or  do  you  propose  to 
answer  it?" 

Aggie  was  preparing  to  take  a  drink  of  water, 
but,  the  water  being  cold  and  the  weather  warm, 

9 


10  MORE  TISH 


she  was  dabbing  a  little  on  her  wrists  first  to 
avoid  colic.  She  looked  up  at  me  in  surprise. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,  Lizzie,"  she  demanded, 
"that  you  don't  recognize  that  advertisement?" 

"Modestine?"  I  reflected.  "I've  heard  the 
name  before  somewhere.  Didn't  Tish  have  a 
cook  once  named  Modestine?" 

But  it  seemed  that  that  was  not  it.  Aggie  sat 
down  opposite  me  and  took  off  her  bonnet.  Al 
though  it  was  only  the  first  of  May,  the  weather, 
as  I  have  said,  was  very  warm. 

"To  think,"  she  said  heavily,  "that  all  the  time 
while  I  was  reading  it  aloud  to  her  when  she  was 
laid  up  with  neuralgia  she  was  scheming  and 
planning  and  never  saying  a  word  to  me!  Not 
that  I  would  have  gone ;  but  I  could  have  sent  her 
mail  to  her,  and  at  least  have  notified  the  authori 
ties  if  she  had  disappeared." 

"Reading  what  aloud  to  her — her  mail?"  I 
asked  sharply. 

"  Travels  with  a  Donkey,' "  Aggie  replied. 
"Stevenson's  Travels  with  a  Donkey.'  It  isn't 
safe  to  read  anything  aloud  to  Tish  any  more. 
The  older  she  gets  the  worse  she  is.  She  thinks 
that  what  any  one  else  has  done  she  can  go  and 
do.  If  she  should  read  a  book  on  poultry- farm 
ing  she  would  think  she  could  teach  a  young  hen 
to  lay  an  egg." 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  11 

As  Aggie  spoke  a  number  of  things  came  back 
to  me.  I  recalled  that  the  Sunday  before,  in 
church,  Tish  had  appeared  absorbed  and  even 
more  devout  than  usual,  and  had  taken  down  the 
headings  of  the  sermon  on  her  missionary  en 
velope  ;  but  that,  on  my  leaning  over  to  see  if  she 
had  them  correctly,  she  had  whisked  the  paper 
away  before  I  had  had  more  than  time  to  see  the 
first  heading.  It  had  said  "Rubber  Heels." 

Aggie  was  pacing  the  floor  nervously,  holding 
the  empty  glass. 

"She's  going  on  a  walking  tour  with  a  donkey, 
that's  what,  Lizzie,"  she  said,  pausing  before  me. 
"I  could  see  it  sticking  out  all  over  her  while  I 
read  that  book.  And  if  we  go  to  her  now  and  tax 
her  with  it  she'll  admit  it.  But  if  she  says  she  is 
doing  it  to  get  thin  don't  you  believe  it." 

That  was  all  Aggie  would  say.  She  shut  her 
lips  and  said  she  had  come  for  my  recipe  for 
caramel  custard.  But  when  I  put  on  my  wraps 
and  said  I  was  going  to  Tish's  she  said  she  would 
come  along. 

Tish  lives  in  an  apartment,  and  she  was  not 
at  home.  Miss  Swift,  the  seamstress,  opened  the 
door  and  stood  in  the  doorway  so  we  could  not 
enter. 

"I'm  sorry,  Miss  Aggie  and  Miss  Lizzie,"  she 
said,  putting  out  her  left  elbow  as  Aggie  tried  to 


12  MORE  TISH 


duck  by  her;  "but  she  left  positive  orders  to  ad 
mit  nobody.  Of  course  if  she  had  known  you 
were  coming — but  she  didn't." 

"What  are  you  making,  Miss  Letitia?"  Aggie 
asked  sweetly.  "Summer  clothes?" 

"Yes.  Some  little  thin  things — it's  getting  so 
hot!" 

"Humph !  I  see  you  are  making  them  with  an 
upholsterer's  needle!"  said  Aggie,  and  marched 
down  the  hall  with  her  head  up. 

I  was  quite  bewildered.  For  even  if  Tish  had 
decided  on  a  walking  tour  I  couldn't  imagine 
what  an  upholsterer's  needle  had  to  do  with  it, 
unless  she  meant  to  upholster  the  donkey. 

We  got  down  to  the  entrance  before  Aggie 
spoke  again.  Then: 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  she  demanded.  "That 
woman's  making  her  a — 

But  at  that  very  instant  there  was  a  thud 
under  our  feet  and  something  came  "ping" 
through  the  floor  not  six  inches  from  my  toe,  and 
lodged  in  the  ceiling.  Aggie  and  I  stood  looking 
up.  It  had  made  a  small  round  hole  over  our 
heads,  and  a  little  cloud  of  plaster  dust  hung 
round  it. 

"Somebody  shot  at  us!"  declared  Aggie, 
clutching  my  arm.  "That  was  a  bullet !" 

I  stooped  down  and  felt  the  floor.    There  was 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  13 

a  hole  in  it,  and  from  somewhere  below  I  thought 
I  heard  voices.  It  was  not  very  comfortable, 
standing  there  on  top  of  Heaven  knows  what; 
but  we  were  divided  between  fear  and  outrage, 
and  our  indignation  won.  With  hardly  a  word 
we  went  back  to  the  rear  staircase  and  so  to  the 
cellar.  Halfway  down  the  stairs  both  of  us  re 
membered  the  same  thing — that  it  was  Tish's 
day  to  use  the  basement  laundry,  and  that  per 
haps 

Tish  was  not  in  the  laundry,  nor  was  Hannah, 
her  maid.  But  Tish's  blue-and-white  dressing 
sacque  was  on  the  line,  and  the  blue  had  run,  as 
I  had  said  it  would  when  she  bought  it.  In  the 
furnace  room  beyond  we  heard  voices,  and  Aggie 
opened  the  door. 

Tish  and  Hannah  were  both  there.  They  had 
not  heard  us. 

"Nonsense!"  Tish  was  saying.  "If  anybody 
had  been  hit  we'd  have  heard  a  scream;  or  if  they 
were  killed  we'd  have  heard  'em  fall." 

"I  heard  a  sort  of  yell,"  said  poor  Hannah.  "I 
don't  like  it,  Miss  Tishu  The  time  before  you 
just  missed  me." 

"Why  did  you  stick  your  arm  out?"  demanded 
Tish.  "Now  take  that  broomstick  and  we'll  start 
again.  Did  you  score  that?" 

"How'll  I  score  it?"  asked  Hannah.     "Hit  or 


14  MORE  TISH 


miss?"  She  went  to  the  cellar  wall  and  stood 
waiting,  with  a  piece  of  charcoal  in  her  hand. 
The  whitewashed  wall  was  marked  with  rows 
of  X's  and  ciphers.  The  ciphers  predominated. 

"Mark  it  a  miss." 

"But  I  heard  a  yell " 

"Fiddle-de-dee!  Are  you  ready?"  Tish  had 
lifted  a  small  rifle  into  position  and  was  standing, 
with  her  feet  apart,  pointing  it  at  a  white  target 
hanging  by  a  string  from  a  rafter.  As  she  gave 
the  signal  Hannah  sighed,  and,  picking  up  a 
broomhandle,  started  the  target  to  swaying, 
pendulum  fashion ;  Tish  followed  it  with  the  gun. 

I  thought  things  had  gone  far  enough,  so  I 
stepped  into  the  cellar  and  spoke  in  ringing  tones. 

"Letitia  Carberry!"  I  said  sternly. 

Tish  pulled  the  trigger  at  that  moment  and  the 
bullet  went  into  the  furnace  pipe.  It  was  absurd, 
of  course,  for  Tish  to  blame  me  for  it,  but  she 
turned  on  me  in  a  rage. 

"Look  what  you  made  me  do!"  she  snapped. 
"Can't  a  person  have  a  moment's  privacy?" 

"What  I  think  you  need,"  I  retorted,  "is  six 
months'  complete  seclusion  in  a  sanitarium." 

"You  nearly  shot  us  in  the  upper  hall,"  Aggie 
put  in  warmly. 

"Well,  as  long  as  I  didn't  shoot  you  in  the 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  15 

upper  hall  or  any  other  place,  I  guess  you  needn't 
fuss,"  said  Tish.  "Ready,  Hannah." 

This  time  she  shot  Hannah  in  the  broom- 
handle,  and  practically  put  her  hors  de  combat; 
but  the  shot  immediately  after  was  what  Tish 
triumphantly  called  a  clean  bull's-eye — that  is,  it 
hit  the  center  of  the  target. 

That  is  the  time  to  stop,  when  one  has  made  a 
bull's-eye  in  any  sort  of  achievement,  I  take  it. 
And  Tish  is  nobody's  fool.  She  took  off  her 
spectacles  and  wiped  the  perspiration  and  gun 
powder  streaks  from  her  face.  She  was  im 
mediately  in  high  good  humor. 

"Every  unprotected  female  should  know  how 
to  handle  a  weapon,"  she  said  oracularly,  and, 
sitting  down  on  the  edge  of  the  coal-bin,  pro 
ceeded  to  swab  out  the  gun  with  a  wad  of  cotton 
on  the  end  of  a  stick. 

"The  poker  has  been  good  enough  for  you  for 
fifty  years,"  I  retorted.  "And  if  you  think  you 
look  sporty,  or  anything  but  idiotic,  sitting  there 
in  a  flowered  kimono  and  swabbing  out  the  throat 
of  that  gun " 

Just  then  the  janitor  came  down,  and  Tish 
gave  him  a  dollar  for  the  use  of  the  cellar  and  did 
not  mention  the  furnace  pipe.  Aggie  and  I 
glanced  at  each  other.  Tish's  demoralization  had 
begun.  From  that  minute,  to  the  long  and  entire- 


16  MORE  TISH 


ly  false  story  she  told  the  red-bearded  man  in 
Thunder  Cloud  Glen  several  days  later,  she  trod, 
as  Aggie  truthfully  said,  the  downward  path  of 
mendacity,  bringing  up  in  the  county  jail  and 
hysterics. 

We  went  upstairs,  Tish  ahead  and  Aggie  and  I 
two  flights  behind,  believing  that  Tish  with  an 
unloaded  gun  was  a  thousand  times  more  danger- 
out  than  any  outlaw  with  an  entire  arsenal 
loaded  to  the  muzzle. 

We  had  a  cup  of  tea  in  Tish's  parlor,  but  she 
kept  us  out  of  the  bedroom,  where  we  could  hear 
Miss  Swift  running  the  sewing  machine.  Final 
ly  Aggie  said  out  of  a  clear  sky: 

"Have  you  had  any  answers  to  your  advertise 
ment?" 

Tish,  who  had  been  about  to  put  a  slice  of 
lemon  in  her  tea,  put  it  in  her  mouth  instead  and 
stared  at  us  both. 

'What  advertisement?" 

"We.  know  all  about  it,  Tish,"  I  said.  "And 
if  you  think  it  proper  for  a  woman  of  your  age 
to  go  adventuring  with  only  a  donkey  for  com- 
pany- 

"I've  had  worse!"  Tish  snapped.  "And  I'm 
not  feeble  yet,  as  far  as  my  age  goes.  If  I  want 
to  take  a  walking  tour  it's  my  affair,  isn't  it?" 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  17 

"You  can't  walk  with  your  bad  knee,"  I  ob 
jected.  Tish  sniffed. 

"You're  envious,  that's  what,"  she  sneered. 
"While  you  are  sitting  at  home,  overeating  and 
oversleeping  and  getting  fat  in  mind  and  body, 
I  shall  be  on  the  broad  highway,  walking  between 
hedgerows  of  flowering — flowering — well,  be 
tween  hedgerows.  While  you  sleep  in  stuffy,  up 
holstered  rooms  I  shall  lie  in  woodland  glades  in 
my  sleeping-bag  and  see  overhead  the  constella 
tion  of — of  what's  its  name.  I  shall  talk  to  the 
birds  and  the  birds  will  talk  to  me." 

Sleeping-bag!  That  was  what  Aggie  had 
meant  that  Miss  Swift  was  making. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  when  it  rains  ?" 

"It  doesn't  rain  much  in  May.  Anyhow,  a 
friendly  farmhouse  and  a  glass  of  milk — even  a 
barn " 

Aggie  got  up  with  the  light  of  desperation  in 
her  eyes.  Aggie  hates  woods  and  gnats,  has  no 
eye  for  Nature,  and  for  almost  half  a  century 
has  pampered  her  body  in  a  featherbed  poultice, 
with  the  windows  closed,  until  the  first  of  June 
each  year.  Yet  Aggie  rose  to  the  crisis. 

"You  shan't  go  alone,  Tish,"  she  said  stoutly. 
"You'll  forget  to  change  your  stockings  when 
your  feet  are  wet  and  you  can't  make  a  cup  of 
coffee  fit  to  drink.  I'm  going  too." 


18  MORE  TISH 


Tish  made  a  gesture  of  despair,  but  Aggie  was 
determined.  Tish  glanced  at  me. 

"Well?"  she  snapped.  "We  might  as  well 
make  it  a  family  excursion.  Aren't  you  coming 
along,  too,  to  look  after  Aggie?" 

"Not  at  all,"  I  observed  calmly.  "I'll  have 
enough  to  do  looking  after  myself.  But  I  like  the 
idea,  and  since  you've  invited  me  I'll  come,  of 
course." 

At  first  I  am  afraid  Tish  was  not  particularly 
pleased.  She  said  she  had  it  all  planned  to  make 
four  miles  an  hour,  or  about  forty  miles  a  day; 
and  that  any  one  falling  back  would  have  to  be 
left  by  the  wayside.  And  that  if  we  were  not 
prepared  to  sleep  on  the  ground,  or  were  going 
to  talk  rheumatism  every  time  she  found  a  place 
to  camp,  she  would  thank  us  to  remember  that  we 
had  really  asked  ourselves. 

But  she  grew  more  cheerful  finally  and  seemed 
to  be  glad  to  talk  over  the  details  of  the  trip  with 
somebody.  She  said  it  was  a  pity  we  had  not  had 
some  practice  with  firearms,  for  we  would  each 
have  to  take  a  weapon,  the  mountains  being  full 
of  outlaws,  more  than  likely.  Neither  Aggie  nor 
I  could  use  a  gun  at  all,  but,  as  Tish  observed,  we 
could  pot  at  trees  and  fenceposts  along  the  road 
by  way  of  practice. 

When    I   suggested  that   the   sight   of   three 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  19 

women  of  our  age — we  are  all  well  on  toward 
fifty;  Aggie  insists  that  she  is  younger  than  I 
am,  but  we  were  in  the  same  infant  class  in 
Sunday-school — three  women  of  our  age  "pot 
ting"  at  fences  was  hardly  dignified,  Tish  merely 
shrugged  her  shoulders. 

She  asked  us  not  to  let  Charlie  Sands  learn  of 
the  trip.  He  would  be  sure  to  be  fussy  and  want 
to  send  a  man  along,  and  that  would  spoil  it  all. 

What  with  the  secrecy,  and  the  guns  and 
everything,  I  dare  say  we  were  like  a  lot  of  small 
boys  getting  ready  to  run  away  out  West  and  kill 
Indians.  In  fact,  Tish  said  it  reminded  her  of 
the  time,  years  ago,  when  Charlie  Sands  and 
some  other  boys  had  run  away,  with  all  the  carv 
ing  knives  and  razors  they  could  gather  together, 
and  were  found  a  week  later  in  a  cave  in  the 
mountains  twenty  miles  or  so  from  town. 

Tish  showed  us  her  sleeping-bag,  which  was 
felt  outside  and  her  old  white  fur  rug  within. 
Aggie  planned  hers  immediately  on  the  same 
lines,  with  her  fur  coat  as  a  lining;  but  I  had 
mine  made  of  oilcloth  outside,  my  rheumatism 
having  warned  me  that  we  were  going  to  have 
rain.  I  was  right  about  the  rain. 

I  had  an  old  army  revolver  that  had  belonged 
to  my  father,  and  of  course  Tish  had  her  coal- 
cellar  rifle,  but  Aggie  had  nothing  more  danger- 


20  MORE  TISH 


ous  than  a  bayonet  from  the  Mexican  War.  This 
being  too  heavy  to  carry,  and  dull — being  only 
possible  as  a  weapon  by  bringing  the  handle 
down  on  one's  opponent's  head — Aggie  was 
forced  to  buy  a  revolver. 

The  man  in  the  shop  tried  to  sell  her  a  small 
pearl-handled  one,  but  she  would  not  look  at  it. 
She  bought  one  of  the  sort  that  goes  on  shooting 
as  long  as  one  holds  a  finger  on  the  trigger — a 
snub-nosed  thing  that  looked  as  deadly  as  it  was. 
She  was  in  terror  of  it  from  the  moment  she  got 
it  home,  and  during  most  of  the  trip  it  was 
packed  in  excelsior,  with  the  barrel  stuffed  with 
cotton,  on  Modestine's  back. 

Which  brings  me  to  Modestine. 

Tish  received  three  answers  to  her  advertise 
ment:  One  was  a  mule,  one  a  piebald  pony  with 
a  wicked  eye,  and  the  third  was  a  donkey.  It 
seemed  that  Stevenson  had  said  that  the  pack 
animal  of  such  a  trip  should  be  "cheap,  small 
and  hardy,"  and  that  a  donkey  best  of  all  an 
swered  these  requirements. 

The  donkey  in  question  was,  however,  not  a 
female.  Tish  was  firm  about  this ;  but  on  no  more 
donkeys  being  offered,  she  bought  this  one  and 
called  him  Modestine  anyhow.  He  was  very 
dirty,  and  we  paid  a  dollar  extra  to  have  him 
washed  with  soap  powder,  as  our  food  was  to  be 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  21 

carried  on  his  back.  Also  the  day  before  we 
started  I  spent  an  hour  or  so  on  him  with  a  fine 
comb,  with  gratifying  results. 

I  must  confess  I  entered  on  the  adventure  with 
a  light  heart.  Tish  had  apparently  given  up  all 
thought  of  the  aeroplane;  her  automobile  was 
being  used  by  Charlie  Sands;  the  weather  was 
warm  and  sunny,  and  the  orchards  were  in 
bloom.  I  had  no  premonition  of  danger.  The 
adventure,  reduced  to  its  elements  of  canned 
food,  alcohol  lamp,  sleeping-bags  and  tooth 
brushes,  seemed  no  adventure  at  all,  but  a  peace 
ful  and  pastoral  excursion  by  three  middle-aged 
women  into  green  fields  and  pastures  new. 

We  reckoned,  however,  without  Aggie's  mis 
sionary  dime. 

Aggie's  church  had  sent  each  of  its  members  a 
ten-cent  piece,  with  instructions  to  invest  it  in 
some  way  and  to  return  it  multiplied  as  much  as 
possible  in  three  months.  This  was  on  Aggie's 
mind,  but  we  did  not  know  it  until  later.  Really, 
Aggie's  missionary  dime  is  the  story.  If  she 
had  done  as  she  had  planned  at  first  and  invested 
it  in  an  egg,  had  hatched  the  egg  in  cotton  wool 
on  the  shelf  over  her  kitchen  range  and  raised 
the  chicken,  eventually  selling  the  chicken  to 
herself  for  dinner  at  seventy-five  cents,  this  story 
would  never  have  been  written. 


22  MORE  TISH 


What  the  dime  really  bought  was  a  glass  of 
jelly  wrapped  in  a  two-day-old  newspaper.  But 
to  go  back : 

We  were  to  start  from  Tish's  at  dawn  on 
Tuesday  morning.  Modestine's  former  owner 
had  agreed  to  bring  him  at  that  hour  to  the  alley 
behind  Tish's  apartment.  On  Monday  Aggie 
and  I  sent  over  what  we  felt  we  could  not  get 
along  without,  and  about  five  we  both  arrived. 

Tish  was  sitting  on  the  floor,  with  luggage 
scattered  all  round  her  and  heaped  on  the  chairs 
and  bed. 

She  looked  up  witheringly  when  we  entered. 

"You  forgot  your  opera  cloak,  Lizzie,"  she 
said,  "and  Aggie  has  only  sent  five  pairs  of 
shoes!" 

"I've  got  to  have  shoes,"  Aggie  protested. 

"If  you've  got  to  have  five  pairs  of  shoes,  six 
white  petticoats,  summer  underwear,  interme 
diates  and  flannels,  a  bathrobe,  six  bath  towels 
and  a  sunshade,  not  to  mention  other  things,  you 
want  an  elephant,  not  a  donkey." 

"Why  do  we  have  a  donkey?"  I  asked.  "Why 
don't  we  have  a  horse  and  buggy,  and  go  like 
Christians?" 

"Because  you  and  Aggie  wouldn't  walk  if  we 
did,"  snapped  Tish.  "I  know  you  both.  You'd 
have  rheumatism  or  a  corn  and  you'd  take  your 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  23 

walking  trip  sitting.  Besides,  we  may  not  al 
ways  keep  to  the  roads.  I'd  like  to  go  up  into 
the  mountains." 

Well,  Tish  was  disagreeable,  but  right.  As  it 
turned  out  the  donkey,  being  small,  could  only 
carry  the  sleeping-bags,  our  portable  stove  and 
the  provisions.  We  each  were  obliged  to  pack 
a  suitcase  and  carry  that. 

We  started  at  dawn  the  next  day.  Hannah 
came  down  to  the  alley  and  didn't  think  much  of 
Modestine.  By  the  time  he  was  loaded  a  small 
crowd  had  gathered,  and  when  we  finally  started 
off,  Tish  ahead  with  Modestine's  bridle  over  her 
arm  and  Aggie  and  I  behind  with  our  suitcases,  a 
sort  of  cheer  went  up.  It  was,  however,  an 
orderly  leave-taking,  perhaps  owing  to  the  fact 
that  Tish's  rifle  was  packed  in  full  view  on  Mod 
estine's  back. 

I  have  a  great  admiration  for  Tish.  She  does 
not  fear  the  pointing  finger  of  scorn.  She  took 
the  most  direct  route  out  of  town,  and  by  the  time 
we  had  reached  the  outskirts  we  had  a  string  of 
small  boys  behind  us  like  the  tail  of  a  kite.  When 
we  reached  the  cemetery  and  sat  down  to  rest 
they  formed  a  circle  round  us  and  stared  at  us. 

Tish  looked  at  her  watch.  We  had  been  an 
hour  and  twenty  minutes  going  two  miles ! 


II 

WE  were  terribly  thirsty,  but  none  of  us 
cared  to  drink  from  the  cemetery  well ;  in 
fact,  the  question  of  water  bothered  us  all  that 
day.  It  was  very  warm,  and  after  we  left  the 
suburban  trolley-line,  where  motormen  stopped 
the  cars  to  look  at  us  and  people  crowded  to  the 
porches  to  stare  at  us,  the  water  question  grew 
serious.  Tish  had  studied  sanitation,  and  at  every 
farm  we  came  to  the  well  was  improperly  located. 
Generally  it  was  immediately  below  the  pigsty. 

Luckily  we  had  brought  along  some  blackberry 
cordial,  and  we  took  a  sip  of  that  now  and  then. 
But  the  suitcases  were  heavy,  and  at  eleven 
o'clock  Aggie  said  the  cordial  had  gone  to  her 
head  and  she  could  go  no  farther.  Tish  was 
furious. 

"I  told  you  how  it  would  be !"  she  said.  "For 
about  forty  years  you  haven't  used  your  legs  ex 
cept  to  put  shoes  and  stockings  on.  Of  course 
they  won't  carry  you." 

"It  isn't  my  feet,  it's  my  head,"  Aggie  sniffed. 
"If  I  had  some  water  I'd  b-be  all  right.  If  you're 
going  to  examine  everything  you  drink  with  a 

24 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  25 

microscope  you  might  as  well  have  stayed  at 
home." 

"I'd  have  died  before  I  drank  out  of  that  last 
well,"  snapped  Tish.  "One  could  tell  by  looking 
at  that  woman  that  there  are  dead  rats  and  things 
in  the  water." 

"You  are  not  so  particular  at  home,"  Aggie 
asserted.  "You  use  vinegar,  don't  you?  And 
I'm  sure  it's  full  of  wrigglers.  You  can  see  them 
when  you  hold  the  cruet  to  the  light." 

We  got  her  to  go  on  finally,  and  at  the  next 
well  we  boiled  a  pailful  of  water  and  made  some 
tea.  We  found  a  grove  beside  the  road  and  built 
a  fire  in  our  stove  there,  and  while  Modestine 
was  grazing  we  sat  and  soaked  our  feet  in  a 
brook  and  looked  for  blisters.  Tish  calculated 
that  as  we  had  been  walking  for  six  hours  we'd 
probably  gone  twenty-two  miles.  But  I  believe 
it  was  about  eight. 

While  we  drank  our  tea  and  ate  the  luncheon 
Hannah  had  put  up  we  discussed  our  plans. 
Tish's  original  scheme  had  been  to  follow  the 
donkey ;  but  as  he  would  not  move  without  some 
one  ahead,  leading  him,  this  was  not  feasible. 

T'We  want  to  keep  away  from  the  beaten  path," 
Tish  said  with  a  pickle  in  one  hand  and  her  cup 
in  the  other.  "These  days  automobiles  go  every- 


26  MORE  TISH 


where.  I'm  in  favor  of  heading  straight  for  the 
mountain." 

"I'm  not,"  I  said  firmly.  "Here  in  civilization 
we  can  find  a  barn  on  a  rainy  night." 

"There  are  plenty  of  caves  in  the  mountains," 
said  Tish.  "Besides,  to  get  the  real  benefit  of  this 
we  ought  to  sleep  out,  rain  or  shine.  A  gentle 
spring  rain  hurts  no  one." 

We  rested  for  two  hours ;  it  was  very  pleasant. 
Modestine  ate  all  that  was  left  of  the  luncheon, 
and  Aggie  took  a  nap  with  her  head  on  her  suit 
case.  If  we  had  not  had  the  suitcases  we  should 
have  been  quite  contented.  Tish,  with  her  cus 
tomary  ability,  solved  that. 

"We  need  only  one  suitcase,"  she  declared. 
"We  can  leave  the  other  two  at  this  farmhouse 
and  pack  a  few  things  for  each  of  us  in  the  one 
we  take  along.  Then  we  can  take  turns  carrying 
it." 

Aggie  wakened  finally  and  was  rather  more 
docile  about  the  suitcases  than  we  had  expected. 
Possibly  she  would  have  been  more  indignant; 
but  her  feet  had  swollen  so  while  she  had  her 
shoes  off  that  she  could  hardly  get  them  on  at 
all,  and  for  the  remainder  of  the  day  her  mind 
was,  you  may  say,  in  her  feet. 

At  four  we  stopped  again  and  made  more  tea. 
The  road  had  begun  to  rise  toward  the  hills  and 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  27 

the  farmhouses  were  fewer.  Ahead  of  us  loomed 
Thunder  Cloud  Mountain,  with  the  Camel's  Back 
to  the  right  of  it.  The  road  led  up  the  valley  be 
tween. 

It  was  hardly  a  road  at  all,  being  a  grass- 
grown  wagontrack  with  not  a  house  in  a  mile. 
Aggie  was  glad  of  the  grass,  for  she  had  taken 
off  her  shoes  by  that  time  and  was  carrying  them 
slung  over  her  shoulder  on  the  end  of  her  para 
sol.  We  were  on  the  lower  slope  of  the  mountain 
when  we  heard  the  green  automobile. 

It  was  coming  rapidly  from  behind  us.  Aggie 
had  just  time  to  sit  on  a  bank — and  her  feet — 
before  it  came  in  sight.  It  was  a  long,  low, 
bright-green  car  and  there  were  four  men  in  it. 
They  were  bent  forward,  looking  ahead,  except 
one  man  who  sat  so  he  could  see  behind  him. 

They  came  on  us  rather  suddenly,  and  the  man 
who  was  looking  back  yelled  to  us  as  they  passed, 
but  what  with  noise  and  dust  I  couldn't  make 
out  what  he  said.  The  next  moment  the  machine 
flew  ahead  and  out  of  sight  among  the  trees. 

"What  did  he  say?"  I  asked.  Aggie,  who  has 
a  tendency  to  hay-fever,  was  sneezing  in  the  dust. 

"I  don't  know,"  returned  Tish  absently,  star 
ing  after  them.  "Probably  asked  us  if  we  wanted 
a  ride.  Lizzie,  those  men  had  guns !" 

"Fiddlesticks!"  I  said. 


28  MORE  TISH 


"Guns !"  repeated  Tish  firmly. 

"Well,  what  of  it?    Our  donkey  has  a  gun." 

And  as  at  that  instant  the  sleeping-bags  and 
provisions  slid  gently  round  under  Modestine's 
stomach,  the  green  automobile  and  its  occupants 
passed  out  of  our  minds  for  a  while. 

By  the  time  we  had  got  the  things  on  Modes- 
tine's  back  again  we  were  convinced  he  had  been 
a  mistake.  He  objected  to  standing  still  to  be  re 
loaded,  and  even  with  Tish  at  his  head  and  Aggie 
at  his  tail  he  kept  turning  in  a  circle,  and  in  fact 
finally  kicked  out  at  Aggie  and  stretched  her  in 
the  road.  Then,  too,  his  back  was  not  flat  like  a 
horse's.  It  went  up  to  a  sort  of  peak,  and  was 
about  as  handy  to  pack  things  on  as  the  ridge 
pole  of  a  roof. 

For  an  hour  or  so  more  we  plodded  on.  Tish, 
who  is  an  enthusiast  about  anything  she  does, 
kept  pointing  out  wild  flowers  to  us  and  talking 
about  the  unfortunates  back  in  town  under  roofs. 
But  I  kept  thinking  of  a  broiled  lamb  chop  with 
new  potatoes,  and  my  whole  being  revolted  at 
the  thought  of  supper  out  of  a  can. 

At  twilight  we  found  a  sort  of  recess  in  the 
valley,  level  and  not  too  thickly  wooded,  and 
while  Tish  and  I  set  up  the  stove  and  lighted  a 
fire  Aggie  spread  out  the  sleeping-bags  and  got 
supper  ready.  We  had  canned  salmon  and  potato 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  29 

salad.  We  ate  ravenously  and  then,  taking  off 
our  shoes  and  our  walking  suits,  and  getting  into 
our  flannel  kimonos  and  putting  up  our  crimps — 
for  we  were  determined  not  to  lapse  into  slovenly 
personal  habits — we  were  ready  for  the  night. 

Tish  said  there  were  all  sorts  of  animals  on 
Thunder  Cloud,  so  we  built  a  large  fire  to  keep 
them  away.  Tish  said  this  was  the  customary 
thing,  being  done  in  all  the  adventure  books  she 
had  read. 

Aggie  had  to  be  helped  into  her  sleeping-bag, 
her  fur  coat  having  been  rather  skimp.  But, 
once  in,  she  said  it  was  heavenly,  and  she  was 
asleep  almost  immediately.  Tish  and  I  followed, 
and  I  found  I  had  placed  my  bag  over  a  stone. 
I  was,  however,  too  tired  to  get  up. 

I  lay  and  looked  at  the  stars  twinkling  above 
the  treetops,  and  I  felt  sorry  for  people  who  had 
nothing  better  to  look  at  than  a  wall-papered  ceil 
ing.  Tish,  next  to  me,  was  yawning. 

"If  there  are  snakes,"  she  observed  drowsily,, 
"they  are  not  poisonous — I  should  think.  And,, 
anyhow,  no  snake  could  strike  through  these 
heavy  bags." 

She  went  to  sleep  at  once,  but  I  lay  there  think 
ing  of  snakes  for  some  time.  Also  I  remembered 
that  we'd  forgotten  to  leave  our  weapons  within; 
reach,  although,  as  far  as  that  goes,  I  should  not. 


30  MORE  TISH 


have  slept  a  wink  had  Aggie  had  her  Fourth-of- 
July  celebration  near  at  hand.  Then  I  went  to 
sleep.  The  last  thing  I  remember  was  wishing 
we  had  brought  a  dog.  Even  a  box  of  cigars 
would  have  been  some  protection — we  could  have 
lighted  one  and  stuck  it  in  the  crotch  of  a  tree,  as 
if  a  man  was  mounting  guard  over  the  camp. 
This  idea,  of  course,  was  not  original.  It  was 
done  first  by  Mr.  Sherlock  Holmes,  the  detective. 

It  must  have  been  toward  dawn  that  I  roused, 
with  a  feeling  that  some  one  was  looking  down  at 
me.  The  fire  was  very  low  and  Aggie  was  sleep 
ing  with  her  mouth  open.  I  got  up  on  my  elbow 
and  stared  round.  There  was  nothing  in  sight, 
but  through  the  trees  I  heard  a  rustling  of  leaves 
and  the  crackling  of  brushwood.  Whatever  it 
was  it  had  gone.  I  turned  over  and  before  long 
went  to  sleep  again. 

At  daylight  I  was  roused  by  raindrops  splash 
ing  on  my  face.  I  sat  up  hastily.  Aggie  was 
sleeping  with  the  flap  of  her  bag  over  her  head, 
and  Tish,  under  an  umbrella,  was  sitting  fully 
dressed  on  a  log,  poring  over  her  road  map. 
When  I  sat  up  she  glanced  over  at  me. 

"I  think  I  know  where  we  are  now,  Lizzie," 
she  said.  ''Thunder  Cloud  Mountain  is  on  our 
left,  and  that  hill  there  to  the  right  is  the  Camel's 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  31 

Back.     The  road  goes  right  up  Thunder  Cloud 
Glen." 

I  looked  at  the  fire,  which  was  out ;  at  Modes- 
tine,  standing  meekly  by  the  tree  to  which  he  was 
tied ;  at  the  raindrops  bounding  off  Aggie's  round 
and  prostrate  figure — and  I  rebelled.  Every 
muscle  was  sore;  it  hurt  me  even  to  yawn. 

"Letitia  Carberry!"  I  said  indignantly.  "You 
don't  mean  to  tell  me  that,  rain  or  no  rain,  you 
are  going  on?" 

"Certainly  I  am  going  on,"  said  Tish,  shutting 
her  jaw.  "You  and  Aggie  needn't  come.  I'm 
sure  you  asked  yourselves;  I  didn't." 

Well,  that  was  true,  of  course.  I  crawled  out 
and,  going  over,  prodded  at  Aggie  with  my  foot. 

"Aggie,"  I  said,  "it  is  raining  and  Tish  is 
going  on  anyhow.  Will  you  go  on  with  her  or 
start  back  home  with  me?" 

But  Aggie  refused  to  do  either.  She  was  ter 
ribly  stiff  and  she  had  slept  near  a  bed  of  May- 
apple  blossoms.  In  the  twilight  she  had  not 
noticed  them,  and  they  always  bring  her  hay- 
fever. 

"I'b  goi'g  to  stay  right  here,"  she  said  firmly 
between  sneezes.  "You  cad  go  back  or  forward 
or  whatever  you  please;  I  shad't  bove." 

Tish  was  marking  out  a  route  on  the  road  map 


32  MORE  TISH 


by  making  holes  with  a  hairpin,  and  now  she  got 
up  and  faced  us. 

"Very  well,"  she  said.  "Then  get  your  things 
out  of  the  suitcase,  which  happens  to  be  mine. 
Lizzie,  the  canned  beans  and  the  sardines  are 
yours.  Aggie,  your  potato  salad  is  in  those  six 
screw-top  jars.  Come,  Modestine." 

She  untied  the  beast  and,  leading  him  over, 
loaded  her  sleeping-bag  and  her  share  of  the  pro 
visions  on  his  back.  She  did  not  glance  at  us. 
At  the  last,  when  she  was  ready,  she  picked  up 
her  rifle  and  turned  to  us. 

"I  may  not  be  back  for  a  week  or  ten  days,"  she 
said  icily.  "If  I'm  longer  than  two  weeks  you 
can  start  Charlie  Sands  out  with  a  posse." 

Charlie  Sands  is  her  nephew. 

"Come,  Modestine,"  said  Tish  again,  and 
started  along.  It  was  raining  briskly  by  that 
time,  and  thundering  as  if  a  storm  was  coming. 
Aggie  broke  down  suddenly. 

"Tish !  Tish !"  she  wailed.  "Oh,  Lizzie,  she'll 
never  get  back  alive.  Never !  We've  killed  her." 

"She's  about  killed  us!"  I  snarled. 

"She's  coming  back!" 

Sure  enough,  Tish  had  turned  and  was  stalk 
ing  back  in  our  direction. 

"I  ought  to  leave  you  where  you  are,"  she  said 
disagreeably,  "but  it's  going  to  storm.  If  you  de- 


cide  to  be  sensible,  somewhere  up  the  valley  is  the 
cave  Charlie  Sands  hid  in  when  he  ran  away.  I 
think  I  can  find  it." 

It  was  thundering  louder  now,  and  Aggie  was 
giving  a  squeal  with  every  peal.  We  were  too 
far  gone  for  pride.  I  helped  her  out  of  her  sleep 
ing-bag  and  we  started  after  Tish  and  the 
donkey.  The  rain  poured  down  on  us.  At  every 
step  torrents  from  Thunder  Cloud  and  the 
Camel's  Back  soaked  us.  The  wind  howled  up 
the  ravine  and  the  lightning  played  round  the 
treetops. 

We  traveled  for  three  hours  in  that  downpour. 


Ill 

ONLY  once  did  Tish  speak,  and  then  we  could 
hardly  hear  her  above  the  rush  of  water 
and  the  roar  of  the  wind. 

"There's  one  comfort,"  she  said,  wading  along 
knee-deep  in  a  torrent.  "These  spring  rains  give 
nobody  cold." 

An  hour  later  she  spoke  again,  but  that  was  at 
the  end  of  that  journey. 

"I  don't  believe  this  is  the  right  valley  after 
all,"  she  said.  "I  don't  see  any  cave."  We 
stopped  to  take  our  bearings,  as  you  may  say,  and 
as  we  stood  there,  looking  up,  I  could  have  sworn 
that  I  saw  a  man  with  a  gun  peering  down  at  us 
from  a  ledge  far  above.  But  the  next  moment  he 
was  gone,  and  neither  Tish  nor  Aggie  had  seen 
him  at  all. 

We  found  the  cave  soon  after  and  climbed  to 
it  on  our  hands  and  knees,  pulling  Modestine  up 
by  his  bridle.  A  more  outrageous  quartet  it 
would  have  been  impossible  to  find,  or  a  more 
outraged  one.  Aggie  let  down  her  dress,  which 
she  had  pinned  round  her  waist,  releasing  about 
a  quart  of  water  from  its  folds,  and  stood  looking 

34 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  35 

about  her  with  a  sneer.  "I  don't  think  much  of 
your  cave,"  she  said.  "It's  little  and  it's  dirty." 

"It's  dry!'  said  Tish  tartly. 

"Why  stop  at  all?"  Aggie  asked  sarcastically. 
"Why  not  just  have  kept  on?  We  couldn't  get 
any  wetter." 

"Yes,"  I  added,  "between  flowering  hedge 
rows  !  And  of  course  these  spring  rains  give  no 
body  cold!" 

Tish  did  not  say  a  word.  She  took  off  her 
shoes  and  her  skirt,  got  her  sleeping-bag  off 
Modestine's  back,  and — went  to  bed  with  the 
worst  attack  of  neuralgia  she  had  ever  had. 

That  was  on  Wednesday,  late  in  the  afternoon. 

It  rained  for  two  days ! 

We  built  a  fire  out  of  the  wood  that  was  in  the 
cave,  and  dried  out  our  clothes,  and  heated  stones 
to  put  against  Tish's  right  eye,  and  brought  in 
wet  branches  to  dry  against  the  time  when  we 
should  need  them.  Aggie  sneezed  incessantly  in 
the  smoke,  and  Tish  groaned  in  her  corner.  I 
was  about  crazy.  On  Thursday,  when  the  edge 
of  the  neuralgia  was  gone,  Tish  promised  to  go 
home  the  moment  the  rain  stopped  and  the  roads 
dried.  Aggie  and  I  went  to  her  together  and  im 
plored  her. 

But,  as  it  turned  out,  we  did  not  go  home  for 
some  days,  and  when  we  did 


36  MORE  TISH 


By  Thursday  evening  Tish  was  much  better. 
She  ate  a  little  potato  salad  and  we  sat  round  the 
fire,  listening  to  her  telling  how  they  had  found 
the  runaways  in  this  very  cave. 

"They  had  taken  all  the  hatchets  and  kitchen 
knives  they  could  find  and  started  to  hunt  In 
dians,"  she  was  saying.  "They  got  as  far  as  this 
cave,  and  one  evening  about  this  time  they  were 
sitting  round  the  fire  like  this  when  a  black 
bear " 

We  all  heard  it  at  the  same  moment.  Some 
thing  was  scrambling  and  climbing  up  the  moun 
tainside  to  the  cave.  Tish  had  her  rifle  to  her 
shoulder  in  a  second,  and  Aggie  shut  her  eyes. 
But  it  was  not  a  bear  that  appeared  at  the  mouth 
of  the  cave  and  stood  blinking  in  the  light.  It 
was  a  young  man! 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  peering  into  the 
firelight,  "but — you  don't  happen  to  have  a  spare 
box  of  matches,  do  you?" 

Tish  lowered  the  rifle. 

"Matches!"  she  said.  "Why — er — certainly. 
Aggie,  give  the  gentleman  some  matches." 

The  young  man  had  edged  into  the  cave  by  that 
time  and  we  saw  that  he  was  limping  and  lean 
ing  on  a  stick.  He  looked  round  the  cave  ap 
provingly  at  our  three  sleeping-bags  in  an  orderly 
row,  with  our  toilet  things  set  out  on  a  clean 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  37 


towel  on  a  flat  stone  and  a  mirror  hung  above, 
and  at  our  lantern  on  another  stone,  with  maga 
zines  and  books  grouped  round  it.  Aggie,  find 
ing  some  trailing  arbutus  just  outside  the  cave 
that  day,  had  got  two  or  three  empty  salmon  cans 
about  filled  with  it,  and  the  fur  rug  from  Tish's 
sleeping-bag  lay  in  front  of  the  fire.  The  effect 
was  really  civilized. 

"It  looks  like  a  drawing  room,"  said  the  young 
man,  with  a  long  breath.  "It's  the  first  dry  spot 
I've  seen  for  two  days,  and  it  looks  like  Heaven 
to  a  lost  soul." 

"Where  are  you  stopping?" 

"I  am  not  stopping.  I  am  on  a  walking  tour,  or 
was  until  I  hurt  my  leg." 

"Don't  you  think  you'd  better  wait  until  things 
dry  up?" 

"And  starve?"  he  asked. 

"The  woods  are  full  of  nuts  and  berries,"  said 
Tish. 

"Not  in  May." 

"And  there  is  plenty  of  game." 

"Yes,  if  one  has  a  weapon,"  he  replied.  "I  lost 
my  gun  when  I  fell  into  Thunder  Creek;  in  fact, 
I  lost  everything  except  my  good  name.  What's 
that  thing  of  Shakespeare's:  'Who  steals  my 
purse  steals  trash,  .  .  .  but  he ' ' 

Aggie  found  the  matches  just  then  and  gave 


38  MORE  TISH 


him  a  box.  He  was  almost  pathetically  grateful. 
Tish  was  still  staring  at  him.  To  find  on  Thunder 
Cloud  Mountain  a  young  man  who  quoted  Shake 
speare  and  had  lost  everything  but  his  good  name 
— even  Stevenson  could  hardly  have  had  a  more 
unusual  adventure. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  the  matches  ?" 
she  demanded  as  he  limped  to  the  cave  mouth. 

"Light  a  fire  if  I  can  find  any  wood  dry  enough 

to  light.  If  I  can't Well,  you  remember  the 

little  match-seller  in  Hans  Christian  Andersen's 
story,  who  warmed  her  fingers  with  her  own 
matches  until  they  were  all  gone  and  she  froze 
to  death !" 

Hans  Christian  Andersen  and  Shakespeare! 

"Can't  you  find  a  cave?"  asked  Tish. 

"I  had  a  cave,"  he  said,  "but- 

"But  what?" 

"Three  charming  women  found  it  while  I  was 
out  on  the  mountainside.  They  needed  the  shelter 
more  than  I,  and  so— 

"What!"  Tish  exclaimed.  "This  is  your 
cave  ?" 

"Not  at  all;  it  is  yours.  The  fact  that  I  had 
been  stopping  in  it  gave  me  no  right  that  I  was 
not  happy  to  waive." 

"There  was  nothing  of  yours  in  it,"  Tish  said 
suspiciously. 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  39 

"As  I  have  told  you,  I  have  lost  everything  but 
my  good  name  and  my  sprained  ankle.  I  had 
them  both  out  with  me  when  you " 

"We  will  leave  immediately,"  said  Tish. 
"Aggie,  bring  Modestine." 

"Ladies,  ladies !"  cried  the  young  man.  "Would 
you  make  me  more  wretched  than  I  already  am? 
I  assure  you,  if  you  leave  I  shall  not  come  back. 
I  should  be  too  unhappy." 

Well,  nothing  could  have  been  fairer  than  his 
attitude.  He  wished  us  to  stay  on.  But  as  he 
limped  a  step  or  two  into  the  night  Aggie  turned 
on  us  both  in  a  fury. 

"That's  it,"  she  said.  "Let  him  go,  of  course. 
So  long  as  you  are  dry  and  comfortable  it  doesn't 
matter  about  him." 

"Well,  you  are  dry  and  comfortable  too," 
snapped  Tish.  "What  do  you  expect  us  to  do?" 

"Call  him  back.  Let  him  sleep  here  by  the 
fire.  Give  him  something  to  eat;  he  looks 
starved.  If  you're  afraid  it  isn't  proper  we  can 
hang  our  kimonos  up  for  curtains  and  make  him 
a  separate  room." 

But  we  did  not  need  to  call  him.  He  had 
limped  back  and  stood  in  the  firelight  again. 

"You — you  haven't  seen  anything  of  the  ban 
dits,  have  you?"  he  asked. 

"Bandits!" 


40 MORE  TISH 

"Train  robbers.  I  thought  you  had  probably 
run  across  them." 

All  at  once  we  remembered  the  green  automo 
bile  and  the  four  men  with  guns.  We  told  him 
about  it  and  he  nodded. 

''That  would  be  they,"  he  said.  As  Tish  re 
marked  later,  we  knew  from  that  instant  that  he 
was  a  gentleman.  Even  Charlie  Sands  would 
probably  have  said  "them."  "They  got  away 
very  rapidly,  and  I  dare  say  an  automobile  would 
be Did  one  of  them  have  a  red  beard?" 

"Yes,"  we  told  him.     "The  one  who  called  to 


us." 


Well,  he  said  that  on  Monday  night  an  express 
car  on  the  C.  &  L.  Railroad  had  been  held  up. 
The  pursuit  had  gone  in  another  direction,  but 
he  was  convinced  from  what  we  said  that  they 
were  there  in  Thunder  Cloud  Glen! 

As  Tish  said,  the  situation  was  changed  if 
there  were  outlaws  about.  We  were  three  de 
fenseless  women,  and  here  was  a  man  brought 
providentially  to  us!  She  asked  him  at  once  to 
join  our  party  and  look  after  us  until  we  got  to 
civilization  again,  or  at  least  until  the  roads  were 
dry  enough  to  travel  on. 

"To  look  after  you!"  he  said  with  a  smile.  "I, 
with  a  bad  leg  and  no  weapon !" 

At  that  Aggie  brought  out  her  new  revolver 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  41 

and  gave  it  to  him.  He  whistled  when  he  looked 
at  it.  "Great  Scott !"  he  said.  "What  a  weapon 
for  a  woman!  Why,  you  don't  need  any  help. 
You  could  kill  all  the  outlaws  in  the  county  at 
one  loading!" 

But  finally  he  consented  to  take  the  revolver 
and  even  to  accept  the  shelter  of  the  cave  for  that 
night  anyhow,  although  we  had  to  beg  him  to  do 
that.  "How  do  you  know  I'll  not  get  up  in  the 
night  and  take  all  your  valuables  and  gallop 
away  on  your  trusty  steed  before  morning?"  he 
asked. 

"We'll  take  a  chance,"  Tish  said  dryly.  "In 
the  first  place,  we  have  nothing  more  valuable 
than  the  portable  stove;  and  in  the  second  place, 
if  you  can  make  Modestine  gallop  you  may  have 
him." 

It  is  curious,  when  I  look  back,  to  think  how 
completely  he  won  us  all.  He  was  young — not 
more  than  twenty-six,  I  think — and  dressed  for  a 
walking  tour,  in  knickerbockers,  with  a  blue  flan 
nel  shirt,  heavy  low  shoes  and  a  soft  hat.  His 
hands  were  quite  white.  He  kept  running  them 
over  his  chin,  which  was  bluish,  as  if  a  day  or 
two's  beard  was  bothering  him. 

We  asked  him  if  he  was  hungry,  and  he  admit 
ted  that  he  could  hardly  remember  when  he  had 
eaten.  So  we  made  him  some  tea  and  buttered 


42  MORE  TISH 


toast,  and  opened  and  heated  a  can  of  baked 
beans.  He  ate  them  all. 

"Good  gracious,"  he  said,  with  the  last  spoon 
ful,  "what  a  world  it  would  be  without  women !" 

At  that  he  fell  into  a  sort  of  study,  looking  at 
the  fire,  and  we  all  saw  that  he  looked  sad  again 
and  rather  forlorn. 

"Yes,"  Tish  said,  "you're  all  ready  enough  to 
shout  'Beware  of  woman'  until  you  are  hungry 
or  uncomfortable  or  hurt,  and  then  you  are  all 
just  little  boys  again,  crying  for  somebody  to  kiss 
the  bump." 

"But  when  it  is  a  woman  who  has  given  the — 
er — bump?"  he  asked. 

Aggie  is  romantic.  Years  ago  she  was  en 
gaged  to  a  Mr.  Wiggins,  a  roofer,  who  met  with 
an  accident  due  to  an  icy  roof.  She  leaned  for 
ward  and  looked  at  him  with  sympathy. 

"That's  it,  is  it  ?"  she  asked  gently. 

He  tried  to  smile,  but  we  could  all  see  that  he 
was  suffering. 

"Yes,  that's  it — partly  at  least,"  he  said. 

"That  is,  if  it  were  not  for  a  woman "  He 

stopped  abruptly.  "But  why  should  I  bother  you 
with  my  troubles?" 

We  were  curious,  of  course;  but  it  is  hardly 
good  taste  to  ask  a  man  to  confide  his  heartaches. 
As  Tish  said,  the  best  cure  for  a  masculine  heart- 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  43 

ache  is  to  make  the  man  comfortable.  We  did  all 
we  could.  I  dried  his  coat  by  the  fire,  and  Tish 
made  hot  arnica  compresses  for  his  ankle,  which 
was  blue  and  swollen.  I  believe  Aggie  would 
gladly  have  sat  by  and  held  his  hand,  but  he  had 
crawled  into  his  shell  of  reserve  again  and  would 
not  be  coaxed  out. 

"I  have  a  nephew  about  your  age,"  Tish  said 
when  he  objected  to  her  bathing  his  ankle.  "I'm 
doing  for  you  what  I  should  do  for  Charlie  Sands 
under  the  same  circumstances." 

"Charlie  Sands!"  he  said,  and  I  was  positive 
he  started.  But  he  said  nothing,  and  we  only  re 
membered  that  later.  We  were  glad  to  have  a 
man  about.  Heaven  only  knows  why  women  per 
sist  in  regarding  men  as  absolute  protection 
against  fire,  burglars  and  lightning.  But  they 
do.  A  sharp  storm  came  up  at  that  time,  and 
ordinarily  Aggie  would  have  been  in  her  sleep 
ing-bag,  with  Modestine's  saddle  on  top  by  way 
of  extra  protection.  But  now,  from  sheer 
bravado,  she  went  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave  and 
stood  looking  out  at  the  lightning. 

"Come  and  look  at  it,  Tish!"  she  said. 

"It's Good  gracious !  There's  a  man  across 

the  valley  with  a  gun!" 

We  all  ran  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave  except  the 
walking-tour  gentleman,  who  had  his  foot  in  a 


44  MORE  TISH 


collapsible  basin  of  arnica  and  hot  water.  But 
none  of  us  saw  Aggie's  man. 

When  we  went  back:  "Wouldn't  it  be  better 
to  darken  things  up  a  bit?"  he  suggested.  "If 
there  are  bandits  round  it  isn't  necessary  to  send 
out  a  welcome  to  them,  you  know." 

This  seemed  only  sensible.  We  put  the  fire  out 
and  sat  in  the  warm  darkness.  And  that  was 
when  our  gentleman  told  us  his  story. 

"Ladies,"  he  began,  "in  saying  that  I  am  on  a 
walking  tour  I  am  telling  the  truth,  but  only  part 
of  the  truth.  I  am  on  a  walking  tour,  but  not  for 
pleasure.  To  be  frank,  I — I  am  after  the  outlaws 
who  robbed  the  express  car  on  the  C.  &  L.  Rail 
road  Monday  night." 

I  heard  Aggie  gasp  in  the  dark. 

"Did  you  expect  to  capture  them  with  a  walk 
ing-stick?"  Tish  demanded.  She  might  treat  his 
ankle  as  she  would  treat  Charlie  Sands'  ankle, 
but — Tish  has  not  Aggie's  confidence  in  people, 
or  mine. 

"Perfectly  well  taken,"  he  said  good-humor- 
edly.  "I  left  home  with  an  entire  arsenal  in  my 
knapsack,  but,  as  I  say,  I  lost  everything  when  I 
fell  into  the  flooded  creek.  Everything,  that  is, 
but  my " 

"Good  name?"  Aggie  suggested  timidly. 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  45 

"Determination.  That  I  still  have.  Ladies, 
I'm  not  going  back  empty-handed." 

"Then  you  are  in  the  Government  service?" 
Tish  asked  with  more  respect. 

"Have  you  ever  heard  of  George  Muldoon, 
generally  known  as  Felt-hat  Muldoon?" 

Had  we?  Weren't  the  papers  full  of  him  week 
after  week?  Wasn't  it  Muldoon  who  had 
brought  back  the  communion  service  to  my 
church,  with  nothing  missing  and  only  a  dent  in 
one  of  the  silver  pitchers?  Hadn't  he  just  sent 
up  Tish's  own  Italian  fruit  dealer  for  writing 
blackhand  letters?  Wasn't  he  the  best  sheriff 
the  county  had  ever  had? 

"Muldoon!"  gasped  Tish.     "You  Muldoon!" 

"Not  tonight  or  for  the  next  two  or  three  days. 

After  that Tonight,  ladies,  and  for  a  day  or 

two,  why  not  adopt  me  to  be  your  nephew — what 
was  his  name — Sands  ? — accompanying  you  on  a 
walking  tour?" 

Adopt  him !  The  great  Muldoon !  We'd  have 
married  him  if  he  had  said  the  word,  name  and 
all.  We  sat  back  and  stared  at  him,  open- 
mouthed.  To  think  that  he  had  come  to  us  for 
help,  and  that  in  aiding  him  we  were  furthering 
the  cause  of  justice! 

He  talked  for  quite  a  long  time  in  the  dark 
ness,  telling  us  of  his  adventures.  He  remem- 


46  MORE  TISH 

bered  perfectly  about  getting  back  the  silver  for 
the  church,  and  about  Tish's  Italian,  and  then  at 
last,  finding  us  good  listeners,  he  told  about  the 
girl. 

"Is  it — er — money?"  Aggie  breathlessly  asked. 

"Well — partly,"  he  admitted.  "I  don't  make 
much,  of  course." 

"But  with  the  rewards  and  all  that?"  asked 
Aggie,  who'd  been  sitting  forward  with  her 
mouth  open. 

"Rewards?  Oh,  well,  of  course  I  get  some 
thing  that  way.  But  it  isn't  steady  money.  A 
chap  can't  very  well  go  to  a  girl's  father  and  tell 
him  that,  if  somebody  murders  somebody  else  and 
escapes  and  he  captures  him,  he  can  pay  the  rent 
and  the  grocery  bill." 

"Is  she  pretty?"  asked  Aggie. 

"Beautiful!"  His  tone  was  ardent  enough  to 
please  even  Aggie. 

He  sat  without  speaking  for  a  time,  and  none 
of  us  liked  to  interrupt  him.  Outside  it  had 
stopped  raining,  and  the  moon  was  coming  up 
over  the  Camel's  Back.  We  could  hear  Modes- 
tine  stirring  in  the  thicket  and  a  watery  ray  of 
moonlight  came  into  the  cave  and  threw  our 
shadows  against  the  wall. 

"If  only,"  said  Sheriff  Muldoon  thoughtfully 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  47 

— "If  only  I  could  get  my  hands  on  that  chap 
with  the  red  beard!" 

We  all  went  to  bed  soon  after.  Aggie,  as 
usual,  went  to  sleep  at  once,  and  soon,  from  be 
hind  the  kimono  screen  across  the  cave,  loud 
noises  told  us  that  Mr.  Muldoon  also  slept.  It 
was  then  that  Tish  crept  over  and  put  her  mouth 
to  my  ear. 

"That  may  be  Muldoon  all  right,"  she  whis 
pered.  "But  if  it  is  he's  got  a  wife  and  two  chil 
dren.  Mrs.  Muldoon  is  related  to  Hannah." 


IV 


SOMEHOW,  with  the  morning  our  suspicions, 
if  we  had  any,  vanished.  Mr.  Muldoon  had 
been  up  at  dawn,  and  when  we  wakened  he  had 
already  brought  water  from  a  near-by  spring  and 
was  boiling  some  in  the  teakettle. 

Seen  by  daylight,  he  was  very  good-looking. 
He  had  blue  eyes  with  black  lashes  and  dark- 
brown  hair,  and  a  habit  of  getting  up  when  any 
of  us  did  that  kept  him  on  his  feet  most  of  the 
time.  His  limp  was  rather  better — or  his  ankle. 

"That's  what  a  little  mothering  has  done  for 
me,"  he  said  gayly,  over  his  coffee  and  mackerel. 
"It's  a  long  time  since  I've  had  any  one  to  do 
anything  like  that  for  me." 

"But  surely  your  wife "  began  Tish.  He 

started  and  changed  color.  We  all  saw  it. 

"My  wife!" 

"You've  got  a  wife  and  two  children,  haven't 
you?" 

He  looked  at  us  all  and  drew  a  -long  breath. 

"Ladies,"  he  said,  "I  see  some  of  my  pain 
ful  history  is  known  to  you.  May  I  ask — is  it 

48 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  49 

too  much  to  beg — that — that  we  do  not  discuss 
that  part  of  my  life?" 

Tish  apologized  at  once.  We  could  not  tell, 
from  what  he  said,  whether  he  had  been  divorced 
or  had  lost  them,  all  from  scarlet  fever.  Which 
ever  it  was,  I  must  say  he  was  not  depressed  for 
very  long,  although  he  had  reason  enough  for  de 
pression,  as  we  soon  learned. 

"It's  like  this,"  he  said.  "They  know  I'm  here 
in  the  glen — the  outlaws,  I  mean.  The  red- 
bearded  man,  Naysmith,  has  sworn  to  get  me." 

"Get  you?"  from  Aggie. 

"Shoot  me.  The  other  three  all  owe  me 
grudges,  too,  but  Naysmith's  the  worst.  He's 
just  out  of  the  pen — I  got  him  a  ten-year  sentence 
for  this  very  thing,  robbing  an  express  car." 

"Ten  years!"  I  exclaimed.  "You  look  as  if 
you  hadn't  shaved  in  ten  years !" 

He  looked  at  me  and  smiled. 

"I'm  older  than  you  think,"  he  said,  "and,  any 
how,  he  got  a  lot  off  for  good  behavior.  It's  out 
rageous,  the  discount  that's  given  to  a  criminal 
for  behaving  himself.  He  got — I  think  I  am 
right  when  I  say — yes,  he  was  sent  up  in  '07 — he 
got  seven  years  off  his  sentence." 

We  all  thought  that  this  was  a  grave  mistake, 
and  Tish,  whose  father  was  once  warden  of  the 
penitentiary,  observed  that  there  was  nothing 


MORE  TISH 


like  that  in  old  times,  and  she  would  write  to  the 
governor  about  it.  Tish  has  written  to  the  gov 
ernor  several  times,  the  last  occasion  being  the 
rise  in  price  of  brooms. 

"It's  like  this,"  said  Mr.  Muldoon.  "They've 
got  the  glen  guarded.  There's  a  man  at  each  end 
and  the  rest  are  covering  the  hilltops.  A  squirrel 
couldn't  get  out  without  their  knowledge.  I 
might  have  before  I  got  this  leg,  but  now  I'm 
done  for." 

"Oh,  no!"  we  chorused. 

"It  amounts  to  that,"  he  said  dejectedly. 
"They've  been  watching  you  women  and  they're 
not  afraid  of  you.  As  long  as  I  stay  in  the  cave 
here  I'm  safe  enough,  but  let  me  poke  my  nose 
out  and  I'm  gone.  It's  an  awful  thing  to  have 
to  hide  behind  a  woman's  petticoats !" 

We  could  only  silently  sympathize. 

It  was  bright  and  clear  that  day.  The  sun 
came  out  and  dried  the  road  below.  It  would 
have  been  a  wonderful  day  to  go  on,  but  none  of 
us  thought  of  it.  As  Tish  said,  here  was  a  chance 
to  assist  the  law  and  a  fellow  being  in  peril  of  his 
life.  Our  place  was  there. 

Even  had  we  doubted  Mr.  Muldoon's  story,  we 
had  proof  of  it  before  noon.  A  man  with  a  gun 
came  out  on  a  ledge  of  rock  across  the  valley  and 
stood,  with  his  hands  to  his  eyes,  peering  across 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD   51 

at  our  cave.  Tish  was  hanging  some  of  our 
clothing  out  to  dry,  and  although  she  saw  the 
outlaw  as  well  as  we  did  she  did  not  flinch.  After 
a  time  the  man  seemed  satisfied  and  disappeared. 

Tish  came  into  the  cave  then  and  took  a  spoon 
ful  of  blackberry  cordial.  As  we  knew,  her  in 
trepid  spirit  had  not  quailed;  but,  as  she  said, 
one's  body  is  never  as  strong  as  one's  soul.  Her 
knees  were  shaking. 

We  put  in  a  quiet  and  restful  afternoon.  Mr. 
Muldoon  had  a  pack  of  cards  with  him  and  we 
played  whist.  He  played  a  very  fair  game,  but 
he  was  on  the  alert  all  the  time.  At  every  sound 
he  started,  and  once  or  twice  he  slipped  out  into 
the  thicket  and  searched  the  glen  in  every  direc 
tion  with  his  eyes. 

He  had  asked  us,  if  the  outlaws  surprised  us, 
to  say  that  he  was  Tish's  nephew,  Charlie  Sands, 
and  to  stick  to  it.  "Unless  it's  Naysmith,"  he 
said.  "He  knows  me."  From  that  to  calling  us 
Aunt  Tish,  Aunt  Aggie  and  Aunt  Lizzie  was 
very  easy.  At  four  o'clock  we  stopped  playing, 
with  Mr.  Muldoon  easily  the  winner,  and  Aggie 
made  fudge  for  everybody. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Tish  called  me  aside. 
She  said  she  did  not  want  Mr.  Muldoon  to  feel 
that  he  was  a  burden,  but  that  we  were  almost 
out  of  provisions.  We  had  expected  to  buy  eggs, 


MORE  TISH 


milk  and  bread  at  farmhouses,  and  instead  we 
had  been  shut  up  in  the  cave.  She  thought  there 
was  a  farm  up  the  glen,  having  heard  a  cow-bell, 
and  she  wanted  me  to  go  and  find  out. 

"Go  yourself!"  I  said  somewhat  rudely.  "If 
you  want  to  be  shot  down  in  your  tracks  by  out 
laws,  well  and  good.  I  don't." 

Aggie,  called  aside,  refused  as  firmly  as  I  had. 
Tish  stood  and  looked  at  us  both  with  her  lip 
curling. 

"Very  well,"  she  said  coldly ;  "I  shall  go.  But 
if  I  get  my  neuralgia  again  from  wading  through 
the  creek  bottom  don't  blame  me!" 

She  put  on  her  overshoes  and,  taking  a  tin 
bucket  for  milk  and  her  trusty  rifle,  she  started 
while  Mr.  Muldoon  was  showing  Aggie  a  new 
game  of  solitaire.  I  went  to  the  cave  mouth  with 
her  and  listened  to  the  crackling  of  twigs  as  she 
slid  down  into  the  valley.  She  came  into  view  at 
the  bottom  much  sooner  than  I  had  expected, 
having,  as  I  learned  later,  slipped  on  a  loose  stone 
and  rolled  fully  half  the  way  down. 

The  next  two  hours  seemed  endless.  Mr.  Mul 
doon,  tiring  of  solitaire,  had  rolled  himself  up  in 
a  corner  and  was  peacefully  sleeping,  with  his 
injured  foot  on  Aggie's  hop  pillow.  Aggie  and  I 
sat  on  guard,  one  on  each  side  of  the  cave  mouth, 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  53 

and  stared  down  at  the  valley,  which  was  darken 
ing  rapidly. 

Tish  had  been  gone  two  hours  and  a  half  and 
no  sign  of  her,  when  Aggie  began  to  cry  softly. 

"She'll  never  come  back!"  she  whimpered. 
"The  outlaws  have  got  her  and  killed  her.  Oh, 
Tish,  Tish!" 

"Why  would  they  kill  her  ?"  I  demanded.  "Be 
cause  she's  trying  to  buy  milk  and  eggs?" 

"B-because  she  knows  too  much,"  Aggie 
wailed.  "We've  found  their  lair,  that's  why — 
don't  tell  me  this  isn't  an  outlaw's  cave.  It's  just 
b-built  for  it.  They'll  do  away  with  her  and  then 
they'll  come  after  us." 

Aggie  never  carries  a  secret  weight  in  her 
bosom.  She  always  opens  up  her  heart  to  the 
nearest  listener.  This  probably  relieves  Aggie, 
but  it  does  not  make  her  a  cheerful  companion. 
Eight  o'clock  and  darkness  came,  and  still  no 
Tish.  I  went  into  the  cave  and  brought  out  my 
gun,  and  Aggie  roused  Mr.  Muldoon  and  ex 
plained  the  situation  to  him.  He  grew  quite 
white. 

"Good  heavens!"  he  exclaimed.  "What  pos 
sessed  her  anyhow?  To  the  farmhouse!  Why, 
they'll " 

His  face  more  than  his  words  convinced  us 
that  the  matter  was  really  serious.  He  examined 


54 MORE  TISH 

Aggie's  revolver,  which  he  mostly  carried  in  his 
hip  pocket,  and,  going  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave, 
listened  carefully.  Everything  was  quiet.  The 
cave  and  both  sides  of  the  valley  were  in  deep 
shadow,  but  over  the  ridge  of  the  Gamers  Back 
across  from  us  there  was  still  a  streak  of  red  sun 
set  light.  Mr.  Muldoon  looked  and  pointed. 

Against  the  background  of  crimson  cloud  a 
man's  figure  stood  out  clearly.  He  was  peering 
down  toward  us,  although  in  the  dusk  he  could 
hardly  have  seen  us,  and  he  carried  a  gun.  Mr. 
Muldoon  smiled  faintly. 

"Well,  they've  spotted  me,  I  guess,"  he  said. 
"I'd  better  move  on  before  I  get  you  into  trouble. 
They  won't  hurt  women." 

"Why  don't  you  shoot  him?"  Aggie  asked.  "It 
would  be  one  bandit  less.  If  you  do  arrest  him, 
and  he  gets  nearly  all  his  sentence  off  for  good 
behavior,  he'll  be  out  again  in  no  time,  doing 
more  mischief." 

But  at  that  moment  we  saw  the  man  on  the  hill 
throw  his  gun  to  his  shoulder  and  aim  at  some 
thing  moving  below  in  the  valley.  Aggie 
screamed,  and  I  believe  I  did  also. 

"Tish!"  cried  Aggie.  "He's  shooting  at  Tish!" 
And  at  that  instant  the  bandit  fired.  He  fired 
three  times,  and  the  noise  of  his  gun  echoed  back 
ward  and  forward  among  the  hills.  We  thought 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  55 

we  heard  a  yell  from  the  valley.  Then  the  next 
second  there  was  a  faint  crack  from  below  and 
the  outlaw's  gun  flew  out  of  his  hands.  Mr.  Mul- 
doon's  jaw  dropped.  'cDid  you  see  that?"  he  said 
feebly.  "Did — you — see — that — shot  ?" 

The  outlaw  disappeared  from  the  skyline  and 
perhaps  ten  minutes  later  Tish  crawled  up  to 
the  cave  and  put  down  a  tin  pail  full  of  milk,  a 
glass  of  jelly  wrapped  in  a  newspaper,  and  a 
basket  of  eggs.  Aggie  fell  on  her  and  cried  with 

joy. 

"Be  careful  of  those  eggs,"  Tish  warned  her. 
"That  outlaw  charged  me  forty  cents  a  dozen." 

"You  gave  him  a  good  fright  anyhow,"  said 
Aggie  fondly. 

"Fright?" 

"When  you  shot  at  him." 

"Oh,  that  one!  I'm  talking  about  the  woman 
at  the  farm." 

"And — the  one  on  the  hill  over  there?" 

"Oh!  Well,  he  fired  at  me  and  I  fired  back. 
That's  all." 

With  an  air  of  exaggerated  indifference  Tish 
swaggered  into  the  cave  and  took  ofT  her  over 
shoes. 

"Hurry  up  supper,  Ag,"  she  said— never  be 
fore  or  since  has  she  called  Aggie  "Ag" — "I'm 
starving." 


56  MORE  TISH 


She  said  she  had  heard  little  or  nothing.  She 
had  found  the  farmhouse,  had  bought  her  sup 
plies  from  a  surly  woman  and  had  come  av;ay 
again.  Asked  by  Mr.  Muldoon  if  she  had  seen 
any  men,  she  said  she  had  seen  a  farmhand  milk 
ing.  That  was  all,  except  the  outlaw  on  the  hill. 

But  under  her  calmness  Tish  was  terribly  ex 
cited.  I  could  tell  it  by  her  glittering  eyes  and 
the  red  spot  in  each  cheek.  Manlike,  Mr.  Mul 
doon  did  not  see  these  signs ;  he  ate  very  little  and 
sat  watching  her,  fascinated.  Only  once,  how 
ever,  did  he  broach  the  subject. 

"I  had  no  idea  you  were  such  a  shot,  Miss 
Letitia,"  he  said.  "It — that  was  a  marvel." 

"Oh,  I  shoot  a  little,"  said  Tish  coolly.  "Only 
for  my  own  amusement,  of  course." 

Mr.  Muldoon  made  no  reply.  He  was  very 
thoughtful  all  evening,  did  not  care  to  play  whist, 
and  watched  Tish  whenever  he  could,  furtively. 

Tish  herself  was  in  an  exalted  mood,  but  not 
about  the  shot — she  was  modest  enough  about 
that. 

And  with  cause.  Months  after  she  told  us 
how  it  happened.  She  said  she  was  carrying  the 
eggs  and  milk  with  her  left  hand  and  had  the  gun 
in  her  right,  when  a  shot  struck  a  tree  beside  her. 
She  was  so  startled  that  her  ringer  pulled  the 
trigger  of  her  own  rifle,  which  was  pointed  up, 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  57 

with  the  result  we  know  of.  She  would  probably 
never  have  confessed  even  then,  had  she  not 
taken  rheumatic  fever  and  thought  she  was 
dying. 

When  Mr.  Muldoon  went  out  to  fix  Modestine 
for  the  night  Tish  called  us  to  the  back  of  the 
cave. 

"I  bought  the  milk  and  eggs,"  she  said  hurried 
ly,  "and  having  a  dime  left — your  missionary 
dime,  Aggie,  I  borrowed  it — I  went  back  and 
bought  a  glass  of  jelly.  Men  like  preserves.  The 
woman  wrapped  it  in  a  newspaper,  and  there  is 
a  full  account  of  the  robbery  and  of  Muldoon 
being  after  the  outlaws.  He's  after  the  outlaws, 
but  he's  after  the  reward  too.  They're  quoted  at 
a  thousand  dollars!" 

"He  can  have  the  thousand  dollars  for  all  of 
me,"  said  Aggie. 

"A  thousand  dollars!"  said  Tish.  "A  thou 
sand  dollars  to  hand  in  to  the  church  as  the  re 
turn  from  your  missionary  dime!  And  if  we 
don't  get  it  Muldoon  will !  As  soon  as  he  can  get 
about  on  his  leg  he'll  cease  being  hunted  and  be 
gin  to  hunt.  Why  should  he  have  it?  He  has 
plenty  of  chances,  and  we'll  never  have  another." 

That  was  all  she  had  a  chance  to  say,  Muldoon 
joining  us  at  that  moment. 

We  retired  early,  but  I  did  not  sleep  well.     I 


58  MORE  TISH 


wakened  from  time  to  time  and  I  could  hear  Tish 
stirring  next  to  me.    At  last  I  reached  over  and 

touched  her. 

• 

"Can't  you  sleep?"  I  whispered. 

"Don't  want  to,"  she  whispered  back.  "I've 
got  it  all  fixed,  Lizzie.  We'll  take  those  outlaws 
back  to  the  city,  roped  two  by  two." 

It  was  a  cool  spring  night,  but  I  broke  into  a 
hot  perspiration. 


TISH  began  with  Mr.  Muldoon  the  next 
morning.  He  could  not  leave  the  cave 
to  carry  up  water,  for  daylight  revealed  another 
guard  across  the  valley  and  it  was  clear  we  were 
being  watched.  While  Aggie  and  I  went  to  the 
spring  Tish  talked  to  him. 

She  told  him  that  he  had  undertaken  too  much, 
single-handed,  and  that  he  should  have  brought 
a  posse  with  him.  He  agreed  with  her.  He  said 
he  had  started  with  a  posse,  but  that  they  had 
split  up.  Also  he  insisted  that  but  for  his  acci 
dent  he  could  have  managed  easily. 

"I'm  up  against  it,"  he  said,  "and  I  know  it. 
They'll  get  me  yet.  For  the  last  day  or  two 
they've  been  closing  up  round  this  cave,  and  in 
a  night  or  two  they'll  rush  it.  They've  got  their 
headquarters  at  that  farmhouse." 

"The  thing  for  you  to  do  then,"  said  Tish,  "is 
to  get  out  while  there  is  time.  You  can  get  help 
and  come  back." 

"And  leave  you  women  here  alone?" 

"They're   not   after   us,"    Tish   replied,    "and 

59 


60  MORE  TISH 


we've  managed  alone  for  a  good  many  years.  I 
guess  we'll  get  along." 

But  when  she  proposed  her  plan,  which  was 
that  he  should  put  on  Aggie's  spare  outfit  and 
her  sun  veil  and  ride  out  of  the  valley  on  Modes- 
tine's  back  in  daylight,  he  objected.  He  said  no 
outlaw  worthy  of  the  name  would  fall  for  a  thing 
like  that,  and  he  said  he  wouldn't  wear  skirts,  and 
that  was  all  there  was  to  it. 

But  in  the  end  Tish  prevailed,  as  usual. 

"I'm  going  to  the  farmhouse  this  morning  and 
I  am  going  to  say  that  one  of  the  ladies  is  leaving 
this  afternoon  and  going  back  home.  That  will 
be  you.  I  wish  you  had  a  razor,  but  the  veil  will 
hide  that.  They'll  not  molest  you.  You'll  not 
only  look  like  Aggie — you'll  be  Aggie." 

Well,  it  seemed  to  be  his  best  chance,  although 
none  of  us  dared  to  think  what  might  happen  if 
the  hat  blew  off  or  Aggie's  gray  alpaca  ripped  at 
the  seams. 

We  worked  feverishly  all  day,  letting  out  the 
dress  and  setting  forward  the  buttons  on  her 
raincoat.  Mr.  Muldoon  was  inclined  to  be  sulky. 
He  sat  at  the  back  of  the  cave,  playing  solitaire 
and  every  now  and  then  examining  the  road 
maps.  Aggie  was  depressed  too.  But,  as  Tish 
said,  getting  rid  of  Muldoon  was  the  first  step  to 
ward  the  thousand  dollars,  and  even  if  Aggie 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  61 

never  got  her  gray  alpaca  again  it  had  seen  its 
best  days. 

That  morning,  while  Aggie  and  I  sewed  and 
ripped  and  Mr.  Muldoon  sat  back  in  the  cave  with 
the  road  map  on  his  knees,  Tish  went  to  the  farm 
house.  She  came  back  at  eleven  o'clock  with  a 
chicken  for  dinner  and  a  flush  on  each  cheek. 

"I've  fixed  it,  Mr.  Muldoon,"  she  said.  "I 
talked  to  one  of  the  outlaws!" 

"What?"  screeched  Aggie. 

"He'd  come  in  for  something  to  eat — the  red- 
bearded  one.  We  had  quite  a  chat.  I  told  him 
we  were  traveling  like  Stevenson — with  a 
donkey ;  but  that  one  of  the  ladies  had  an  ibscess 
on  a  tooth  and  was  going  home.  He  said  it  was 
no  place  for  women  and  offered  himself  as  an 
escort." 

Mr.  Muldoon  groaned.  "What  am  I  going 
to  do  if  one  of  them  comes  up  and  makes  an  ass 
of  himself?"  he  demanded.  "Kiss  him?" 

Tish  looked  at  him  coldly. 

"You'll  have  your  jaw  tied  up,"  she  said. 
"That  will  cover  your  chin,  and  you  needn't 
speak.  Point  to  your  jaw.  Anyhow,  they'll  not 
bother  you.  I  said  the  toothache  had  affected 
your  disposition,  and  we  were  just  as  glad  you 
were  going.  The  red-haired  rrmn  says  he's  got 
relatives  near  the  mouth  of  the  valley  and  you 


62  MORE  TISH 


can  stay  there  overnight.  One  of  the  men  folks 
pulls  teeth  in  emergencies." 

It  is  hard,  writing  all  this  of  Tish,  to  remember 
that  she  has  always  been  a  truthful  woman.  As 
Charlie  Sands  said  later,  when  we  told  him  the 
story  and  he  had  sat,  open-mouthed,  staring  from 
one  to  the  other  of  us,  no  one  knows  what  depths 
of  mendacity  lie  behind  the  most  virtuous  coun 
tenance. 

We  started  "Aggie"  off  at  two  o'clock  that 
afternoon,  sitting  sideways  on  Modestine,  jaw 
tied  up,  veiled  and  sun-hatted,  with  Aggie's  flow 
ered-silk  bag  hanging  to  one  wrist  and  a  lunch- 
basket  on  the  other  arm.  Tish  and  I  saw  "her" 
down  the  hill  and  kissed  "her"  good-by. 

This  was  Tish's  idea.  I  thought  it  unneces 
sary,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  no  matter  what 
Charlie  Sands  may  say,  it  was  not  a  real  kiss, 
going  as  it  did  through  a  veil  and  a  bandage. 

The  man  with  a  gun  watched  "her"  off,  and 
Tish,  having  waved  "her"  out  of  sight  round  a 
curve,  looked  up  at  him  and  nodded.  Far  away 
as  he  was,  he  saw  that  and  swept  his  hat  off  with 

quite  an  air. 

• 

Tish's  plan  was  very  simple.     She  told  us  as 

we  cleared  up  the  cave  after  the  day's  excitement. 

"When  I  go  for  the  evening  milk,"  she  said, 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  63 

"I  shall  mention  that  we  have  a  young  man  with 
us,  a  stranger,  who  has  hurt  his  ankle  and  can 
not  walk.  And  I'll  ask  for  arnica.  That's  all." 

"That's  all !"  Aggie  and  I  exclaimed  together. 

"Certainly  that's  all.  Sometime  tonight  they'll 
rush  the  cave." 

"You're  a  fool !"  said  Aggie  shortly. 

"Why?"  demanded  Tish.  "We  won't  be  in  it. 
We'll  be  outside.  The  moment  they  are  in  we'll 
start  to  shoot.  Not  one  of  them  will  dare  to  stick 
his  nose  out." 

When  we  told  this  to  Charlie  Sands  he  slid  en 
tirely  off  his  chair  and  sat  on  the  floor.  "Not 
really!"  he  kept  saying  over  and  over.  "You 
dreamed  it !  You  must  have !  A  thing  like  that !" 
I  hastened  to  explain.  "Tish  planned  it,"  I  said. 
I  remember  him  looking  at  Tish — who  was 
crotcheting  as  she  told  the  story — and  moisten 
ing  his  lips.  He  was  quite  green  in  color. 


c 


VI 


LIPPING  from  the  Morning  News  of  May 
the  seventh: 

SHERIFF  AMBUSHED 


REMARKABLE   EXPERIENCE   OF   MULDOON   AND 
PARTY  IN  THUNDER  CLOUD  GLEN 

An  extraordinary  state  of  affairs  was  discov 
ered  by  the  relief  party  of  constables,  city  and 
county  detectives  and  state  constabulary  sent  to 
the  relief  of  Sheriff  Muldoon  and  his  posse,  who 
have  been  on  the  track  of  the  C.  &  L.  train  ban 
dits  since  last  Monday. 

The  relief  party  was  sent  out  in  response  to  a 
telephone  message  from  a  farmhouse  in  Thunder 
Cloud  Glen,  and  transmitted  from  the  farmer's 
line  to  a  long-distance  wire.  This  message  was 
to  the  effect  that  the  sheriff  and  his  posse,  shut 
in  a  cave,  were  being  held  prisoners  by  the  out 
laws,  being  shot  at  steadily,  and  that  so  far  every 
attempt  at  escape  had  been  thwarted  by  the  ter 
rific  fire  of  the  bandits. 

64 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  65 

A  relief  party  in  automobiles  was  rushed  at 
once  to  the  scene. 

Thunder  Cloud  Glen  is  a  narrow  valley  be 
tween  the  Camel's  Back  and  Thunder  Cloud 
Mountain.  A  mile  or  so  from  the  entrance  to 
the  glen  the  road,  always  bad  and  now  almost 
washed  away  by  the  recent  heavy  rains,  became 
impassable.  The  party  abandoned  the  machines 
and  in  skirmish  order  proceeded  up  the  glen. 

Within  an  hour's  time  firing  was  heard,  and 
the  rescuers  doubled  their  pace.  Passing  a  bend 
in  the  valley,  the  scene  of  the  outrage  lay  spread 
before  them:  On  the  left  the  low  mouth  of  a 
cave,  and  across  the  valley,  on  a  slope  of  the 
Camel's  Back,  a  faint  cloud  of  smoke,  showing 
where  the  outlaws  had  their  lair.  As  the  res 
cuers  came  in  sight  the  firing  ceased  and  an  omi 
nous  stillness  hung  over  the  valley. 

The  relief  expedition  had  been  seen  by  the  im 
prisoned  party  also.  Muldoon's  well-known  soft 
felt  hat,  tied  to  the  end  of  a  pole,  was  thrust 
from  the  cave  mouth  and  waved  vigorously  up 
and  down,  showing  that  some  of  the  imprisoned 
party  still  lived.  One  solitary  shot  was  aimed  at 
the  hat,  followed  by  profound  quiet. 

Using  every  precaution,  Deputy  Sheriff  Mul- 
cahy  deployed  his  men  with  the  intention  of  clos- 


06  MORE  TISH 


ing  in  on  the  outlaws  from  all  sides  at  the  same 
time. 

At  this  time  an  interesting  interruption  oc 
curred.  From  the  underbrush  at  the  foot  of  the 
Camel's  Back  emerged  three  elderly  women,  their 
clothing  in  tatters,  and  in  the  wildest  excitement. 
They  insisted  that  the  outlaws  were  in  the  cave, 
and  hysterical  with  fright  from  their  terrible  ex 
perience,  declared  that  they  had  been  holding 
the  bandits  in  check  and  demanded  the  reward 
for  their  capture.  They  were  rational  enough 
in  other  ways  and  explained  that  they  had  been 
on  a  walking  tour  with  a  donkey.  There  was, 
however,  no  donkey. 

Deputy  Sheriff  Mulcahy,  who  is  noted  for  his 
gallantry,  sent  the  three  women  to  a  safe  place  at 
the  rear  of  the  party  and  detailed  a  guard  to 
make  them  comfortable.  It  being  thought  pos 
sible  that  the  women  were  accomplices  of  the  out 
laws,  precautions  were  also  taken  to  prevent  their 
escape. 

No  trace  of  the  outlaws  was  found.  Sheriff 
Muldoon  and  his  three  deputies,  now  enabled  to 
leave  the  cave,  joined  the  searchers.  Every  inch 
of  Thunder  Cloud  Glen  was  searched,  but  with 
out  result.  Across  from  the  cave  mouth,  behind 
a  heap  of  fallen  rocks,  was  found  the  spot  from 
which  the  outlaws  had  been  shooting.  The 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  67 

ground  was  trampled  and  the  rock  chipped  by  the 
return  fire  from  the  cave.  Here,  too,  was  found 
a  new  automatic  revolver,  a  small  rifle  and  an 
other  gun  of  antique  pattern.  In  a  crevice  of 
rock  was  discovered  a  flowered-silk  bag,  contain 
ing  various  articles  of  feminine  use,  including  a 
packet  of  powders  marked  "hay-fever,"  a  small 
bottle  labeled  "blackberry  cordial,"  and  a  dozen 
or  so  unexploded  cartridges  for  the  revolver. 

Convinced  now  that  the  three  women  were  ac 
complices  of  the  outlaws — and  this  corroborated 
by  Sheriff  Muldoon's  statement  that  he  had  posi 
tively  seen  one  of  the  three  women  peering  over 
the  rock  and  aiming  a  rifle  at  him,  and  that  the 
same  woman,  two  days  before,  had  fired  at  him 
from  the  valley,  knocking  his  gun  out  of  his  hand 
— Deputy  Sheriff  Mulcahy  promptly  arrested  the 
women  and  had  them  taken  in  an  automobile  to 
the  city. 

At  the  jail,  however,  it  was  discovered  that 
an  unfortunate  error  had  been  made,  and  the 
ladies  were  released.  They  went  at  once  to  their 
homes.  While  their  names  have  not  been 
divulged  it  is  reported  that  they  are  well  known 
and  highly  esteemed  members  of  the  community, 
and  much  sympathy  has  been  expressed  for  their 
disagreeable  experience. 

Up  to  a  late  hour  last  night  no  trace  had  been 


68  MORE  TISH 


found  of  the  outlaws.  It  is  believed  that  they 
have  left  Thunder  Cloud  Glen  and  have  pene 
trated  farther  into  the  mountains. 

Charlie  Sands  came  for  us  at  the  jail.  He 
asked  us  no  questions,  which  I  thought  strange, 
but  he  got  a  carriage  and  took  us  all  to  Tish's. 
He  did  not  speak  a  word  on  the  way,  except  to 
ask  us  if  we  had  no  hats.  On  Tish's  replying 
meekly  that  we  had  left  them  in  the  cave,  he  said 
nothing  more,  but  sat  looking  like  a  storm  until 
we  drew  up  at  the  house. 

I  dare  say  we  did  look  curious.  Our  clothes 
were  torn  and  draggled,  and  although  we  had 
washed  at  the  jail  we  were  still  somewhat  pow 
der-streaked  and  grimy. 

Charlie  Sands  led  us  into  Tish's  parlor  and 
shut  the  door.  Then  he  turned  and  surveyed  the 
three  of  us. 

"Sit  down,"  he  said  grimly. 

We  sat.  He  stood  looking  down  at  each  of  us 
in  turn. 

"I'll  hear  the  story  in  a  minute,"  he  said,  still 
cold  and  disagreeable.  "But  first  of  all,  Aunt 
Tish,  I  want  to  ask  you  if  you  realize  that  this 
last  escapade  of  yours  is  a  disgrace  to  the 
family?" 

"Nothing   of   the   sort,"   Tish   asserted   with 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  69 

something  of  her  old  spirit.  "It  was  all  for 
Aggie's  missionary  dime.  I " 

"A  moment,"  he  said,  holding  up  his  hand. 
"I'm  going  to  ask  a  question.  I'll  listen  after 
that.  Did  you  or  did  you  not  hold  up  the  C.  &  L. 
express  car?" 

We  were  too  astounded  to  speak. 

"Because  if  you  did,"  he  said,  "missionary 
dime  or  no  missionary  dime,  I  shall  turn  you 
over  to  the  authorities!  I  have  gone  through  a 
lot  with  you,  Aunt  Tish,  in  the  past  year." 

Aggie  and  I  expected  to  see  Tish  rise  in  majesty 
and  point  him  out  of  the  room.  But  to  our 
amazement  she  broke  down  and  cried. 

"No,"  she  said  feebly,  "we  didn't  rob  the  car. 
But  oh,  Charlie,  Charlie !  We  nursed  that  wretch 
Muldoon,  and  fed  him  and  sent  him  off  on  Mod- 
estine  in  Aggie's  gray  alpaca,  and  he  got  away; 
and  if  you  say  to  go  to  jail  I'll  go." 

"Muldoon!" 

"The  wretch  who  said  he  was  Muldoon.  The 
— the  train  robber." 

Well,  it  took  hours  to  tell  the  story,  and  when 
we  had  all  finished  and  Aggie  had  gone  to  bed 
in  Tish's  spare  room  with  hysteria,  and  Tish  had 
gone  to  bed  with  tea  and  toast,  Charlie  Sands 
was  still  walking  up  and  down  the  parlor,  stop- 


70  MORE  TISH 


ping  now  and  then  to  mutter:  "Well,  I'll  be 
"  and  then  going  on  with  his  pacing. 

Hannah  brought  me  a  cup  of  junket  at  eight 
o'clock,  for  none  of  us  had  eaten  dinner.  I  was 
sitting  there  with  the  cup  in  my  lap  when  the 
doorbell  rang.  Charlie  Sands  answered  it.  It 
was  a  letter  addressed  to  all  three  of  us. 

We  called  Tish  and  Aggie  and  they  crept  in, 
very  subdued  and  pallid.  Charlie  Sands  opened 
the  letter  and  read  it : 

Dear  and  Charming  Ladies:  I  am  abject. 
What  can  I  say  to  you,  who  have  just  come 
through  such  an  experience  on  my  account? 
How  can  I  apologize  or  explain?  Especially  as 
I  am  confused  myself  as  to  what  really  hap 
pened.  Did  Muldoon  actually  attack  the  cave? 
Were  you  in  it  when  he  arrived?  Or  is  it  pos 
sible  that,  with  my  foolish  fabrication  in  your 

mind,  you  attempted But  that  is  absurd, 

of  course. 

Whatever  occurred  and  however  it  occurred,  I 
am  on  my  knees  to  you  all.  Even  a  real  bandit 
would  have  been  touched  by  your  kindness.  And 
I  am  not  a  real  bandit  any  more  than  I  am  a  real 
sheriff. 

I  am  an  ordinary  citizen,  usually  a  law-abid 
ing  citizen.  But  as  a  result  of  a  foolish  wager 


THE  CAVE  ON  THUNDER  CLOUD  71 

at  my  club,  brought  about  by  the  ease  with  which 
numerous  trains  have  been  robbed  recently,  I  un 
dertook  to  hold  up  a  C.  &  L.  train  with  an  empty 
revolver,  and  to  evade  capture  for  a  certain 
length  of  time.  The  first  part  was  successful. 
The  train  messenger,  on  seeing  my  gun,  handed 
me,  without  a  word,  a  fat  package.  I  had  not 
asked  for  it.  It  was  a  gift.  I  do  not  even  now 
know  what  is  in  it.  The  newspapers  say  it  is 
money.  It  might  have  been  eggs,  as  far  as  I 
know.  The  second  part  would  have  been  simple 
also,  had  I  not  hurt  my  leg. 

Things  were  looking  serious  for  me  when  you 
found  me.  I  shall  never  forget  the  cave,  or  the 
omelets,  or  the  tea,  or  the  fudge.  I  can  never  re 
turn  your  hospitalities,  but  one  thing  I  can  do. 

The  express  company  offers  a  reward  of  a 
thousand  dollars  for  my  little  package.  Probably 
they  are  right  and  it  is  not  eggs.  Whatever  it  is, 
it  is  buried  under  the  tree  where  we  tied  our 
noble  steed,  Modestine.  Please  return  the  pack 
age  and  claim  the  reward.  If  you  have  scruples 
against  taking  it  remember  that  the  express  com 
pany  is  rich  and  the  Fiji  Islanders  needy.  Turn 
it  in  as  the  increased  increment  on  Miss  Aggie's 
missionary  dime. 
(Signed) 

THE  OUTLAW  OF  THUNDER  CLOUD. 


72  MORE  TISH 


We  found  the  package,  or  Charlie  Sands  found 
it  for  us,  'and  the  express  company  paid  us  the 
reward.  We  gave  it  to  Aggie,  and  with  the  ex 
ception  of  fifty  dollars  she  turned  it  all  in  at  the 
church,  where  it  created  almost  a  riot.  With  the 
fifty  dollars  we  purchased,  through  Charlie 
Sands,  a  revolver  with  a  silver  inlaid  handle,  and 
sent  it  to  the  real  Sheriff  Muldoon.  It  eased  our 
consciences  somewhat. 

That  was  all  last  spring.  It  is  summer  now. 
Tish  is  talking  again  of  flowering  hedgerows  and 
country  lanes,  but  Aggie  and  I  do  not  care  for 
the  country,  and  the  mere  sight  of  a  donkey  gives 
me  a  chill. 

Yesterday  evening,  on  our  way  to  prayer  meet 
ing,  we  heard  a  great  noise  of  horns  coming  and 
stopped  to  see  a  four-in-hand  go  by.  A  young 
gentleman  was  driving,  with  a  pretty  girl  beside 
him.  As  we  lined  up  at  the  curb  he  turned  smil 
ing  from  the  girl  and  he  caught  our  eyes. 

He  started,  and  then,  bowing  low,  he  saluted 
us  from  the  box. 

It  was  "Muldoon." 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT 

FROM  the  very  beginning  of  the  war  Tish 
was  determined  to  go  to  France.  But  she 
is  a  truthful  woman,  and  her  age  kept  her  from 
being  accepted.  She  refused,  however,  to  believe 
that  this  was  the  reason,  and  blamed  her  rejec 
tion  on  Aggie  and  myself. 

"Age  fiddlesticks !"  she  said,  knitting  violently. 
"The  plain  truth  is — and  you  might  as  well  ac 
knowledge  it,  Lizzie — that  they  would  take  me  by 
myself  quick  enough,  just  to  get  the  ambulance 
I've  offered,  if  for  no  other  reason.  But  they 
don't  want  three  middle-aged  women,  and  I  don't 
know  that  I  blame  them." 

That  was  during  September,  I  think,  and  Tish 
had  just  received  her  third  rejection.  They  were 
willing  enough  to  take  the  ambulance,  but  they 
would  not  let  Tish  drive  it.  I  am  quite  sure  it 
was  September,  for  I  remember  that  Aggie  was 
having  hay  fever  at  the  time,  and  she  fell  to 
sneezing  violently. 

Tish  put  down  her  knitting  and  stared  at  Aggie 
fixedly  until  the  paroxysm  was  over. 

75 


76  MORE  TISH 


"Exactly,"  she  observed,  coldly.  "Imagine  me 
creeping  out  onto  a  battlefield  to  gather  up  the 
wounded,  and  Aggie  crawling  behind,  going  off 
like  an  alarm  clock  every  time  she  met  a  clump 
of  golden  rod,  or  whatever  they  have  in  France 
to  produce  hay  fever." 

"I  could  stay  in  the  ambulance,  Tish,"  Aggie 
protested. 

"I  understand,"  Tish  went  on,  in  an  inflexible 
tone,  "that  those  German  snipers  have  got  so 
that  they  shoot  by  ear.  One  sneeze  would  prob 
ably  be  fatal.  Not  only  that,"  she  went  on,  turn 
ing  to  me,  "but  you  know  perfectly  well,  Lizzie, 
that  a  woman  of  your  weight  would  be  always 
stepping  on  brush  and  sounding  like  a  night 
attack." 

"Not  at  all,"  I  replied,  slightly  ruffled.  "And 
for  a  very  good  reason.  I  should  not  be  there. 
As  to  my  weight,  Tish,  my  mother  was  always 
considered  merely  a  fine  figure  of  a  woman,  and 
I  am  just  her  size.  It  is  only  since  this  rage  for 
skinny  women " 

But  Tish  was  not  listening.  She  drew  a  deep 
sigh,  and  picked  up  her  knitting  again. 

"We'd  better  not  discuss  it,"  she  said.  But  in 
these  days  of  efficiency  it  seems  a  mistake  that  a 
woman  who  can  drive  an  ambulance  and  can't 
turn  the  heel  of  a  stocking  properly  to  save  her 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  77 

life,  should  be  knitting  socks  that  any  soldier  with 
sense  would  use  to  clean  his  gun  with,  or  to  tie 
around  a  sore  throat,  but  never  to  wear." 

It  was,  I  think,  along  in  November  that  Charlie 
Sands,  Tish's  nephew,  came  to  see  me.  He  had 
telephoned,  and  asked  me  to  have  Aggie  there. 
So  I  called  her  up,  and  told  her  to  buy  some  cigar 
ettes  on  the  way.  I  remember  that  she  was  very 
irritated  when  she  arrived,  although  the  very  soul 
of  gentleness  usually. 

She  came  in  and  slammed  a  small  package  onto 
my  table. 

"There!"  she  said.  "And  don't  ever  ask  me 
to  do  such  a  thing  again.  The  man  in  the  shop 
winked  at  me  when  I  said  they  were  not  for 
myself." 

However,  Aggie  is  never  angry  for  any  length 
of  time,  and  a  moment  later  she  was  remarking 
that  Mr.  Wiggins  had  always  been  a  smoker,  and 
that  one  of  his  workmen  had  blamed  his  fatal 
accident  on  the  roof  to  smoke  from  his  pipe  get 
ting  into  his  eyes. 

Shortly  after  that  I  was  surprised  to  find  her 
in  tears. 

"I  was  just  thinking,  Lizzie,"  she  said.  "What 
if  Mr.  Wiggins  had  lived,  and  we  had  had  a  son, 
and  he  had  decided  to  go  and  fight !" 

She  then  broke  down  and  sobbed  violently,  and 


78  MORE  TISH 


it  was  some  time  before  I  could  calm  her.  Even 
then  it  was  not  the  fact  that  she  had  no  son  which 
calmed  her. 

"Of  course  I'm  silly,  Lizzie,"  she  said.  "I'll 
stop  now.  Because  of  course  they  don't  all  get 
killed,  or  even  wounded.  He'd  probably  come  out 
all  right,  and  every  one  says  the  training  is  fine 
for  them." 

Charlie  Sands  came  in  shortly  after,  and  hav 
ing  kissed  us  both  and  tried  on  a  night  shirt  I 
was  making  for  the  Red  Cross,  and  having  found 
the  cookie  jar  in  the  pantry  and  brought  it  into 
my  sitting  room,  sat  down  and  came  to  business. 

"Now,"  he  said.    "What's  she  up  to?" 

He  always  referred  to  Tish  as  "she,"  to  Aggie 
and  myself. 

"She  has  given  up  going  to  France,"  I  replied. 

"Perhaps!    What  does  Hannah  report?" 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that,  fearing  Tish's  im 
pulsive  nature,  we  had  felt  obliged  to  have  Han 
nah  watch  her  carefully.  Tish  has  a  way  of 
breaking  out  in  unexpected  places,  like  a  boil,  as 
Charlie  Sands  once  observed,  and  by  knowing  her 
plans  in  advance  we  have  sometimes  prevented 
her  acting  in  a  rash  manner.  Sometimes,  not 
always. 

"Hannah  says  everything  is  quiet,"  Aggie  said. 
"Dear  Tish  has  apparently  given  up  all  thought 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  79 

of  going  abroad.  At  least,  Hannah  says  she  no 
longer  practises  first  aid  on  her.  Not  since  the 
time  Tish  gave  her  an  alcohol  bath  and  she  caught 
cold.  Hannah  says  she  made  her  lie  uncovered, 
with  the  window  open,  so  the  alcohol  would  evap 
orate.  But  she  gave  notice  the  next  day,  which 
was  ungrateful  of  her,  for  Tish  sat  up  all  night 
feeding  her  things  out  of  her  First  Aid  case,  and 
if  she  did  give  her  a  bit  of  iodine  by  mistake " 

"She  is  no  longer  interested  in  First  Aid,"  I 
broke  in.  Aggie  has  a  way  of  going  on  and  on. 
and  it  was  not  necessary  to  mention  the  matter  of 
the  iodine.  "I  know  that,  because  I  blistered  my 
hand  over  there  the  other  day,  and  she  merely 
told  me  to  stick  it  in  the  baking  soda  jar." 

"That's  curious,"  said  Charlie  Sands. 

"Because Great  Scott,  what's  wrong  with 

these  cigarettes?" 

"They  are  violet-scented,"  Aggie  explained. 
"The  smell  sticks  so,  and  Lizzie  is  fond  of  violet." 

However,  he  did  not  seem  to  care  for  them, 
and  appeared  positively  ashamed.  He  opened  a 
window,  although  it  was  cold  outside,  and  shook 
himself  in  front  of  it  like  a  dog.  But  all  he 
said  was: 

"I  am  a  meek  person,  Aunt  Lizzie,  and  I  like 
to  humor  whims  when  I  can.  But  the  next  time 
you  have  a  male  visitor  and  offer  him  a  cigarette, 


80  MORE  TISH 


for  the  love  of  Mike  don't  tell  him  those  brazen 
gilt-tipped  incense  things  are  mine." 

He  then  ate  nine  cookies,  and  explained  why 
he  had  come. 

"I  don't  like  the  look  of  things,  beloved  and 
respected  spinsters,"  he  said.  "I  fear  my  revered 
aunt  is  again  up  to  mischief.  You  haven't  heard 
her  say  anything  more  about  aeroplanes,  have 
you?" 

"No,"  I  replied,  for  us  both. 

"Or  submarines?" 

"She's  been  taking  swimming  lessons  again," 
I  said,  thoughtfully. 

"Lizzie!"  Aggie  cried.    "Oh,  my  poor  Tish!" 

"I  think,  however,"  said  Charlie  Sands,  "that 
it  is  not  a  submarine.  There  are  no  submarine 
flivvers,  as  I  understand  it,  and  a  full-size  one 
would  run  into  money.  No,  I  hardly  think  so. 
The  fact  remains,  however,  that  my  respected 
and  revered  aunt  has  made  away  with  about 
seven  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  bonds  that 
were,  until  a  short  time  ago,  giving  semi-annual 
birth  to  plump  little  coupons.  The  question  is, 
what  is  she  up  to?" 

But  we  were  unable  to  help  him,  and  at  last 
he  went  away.  His  parting  words  were : 

"Well,  there  is  something  in  the  air,  and  the 
only  thing  to  do,  I  suppose,  is  to  wait  until  it 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  81 

drops.  But  when  my  beloved  female  relative 
takes  to  selling  bonds  without  consulting  me,  and 
goes  out,  as  I  met  her  yesterday,  with  her  hat  on 
front  side  behind,  there  is  something  in  the  wind. 
I  know  the  symptoms." 

Aggie  and  I  kept  a  close  wratch  on  Tish  after 
that,  but  without  result,  unless  the  following  in 
cident  may  be  called  a  result.  Although  it  was 
rather  a  cause,  after  all,  for  it  brought  Mr.  Cul 
ver  into  our  lives. 

I  think  it  important  to  relate  it  in  detail,  as  in 
a  way  it  vindicates  Tish  in  her  treatment  of  Mr. 
Culver,  although  I  do  not  mean  by  this  statement 
that  there  was  anything  of  personal  malice  in  the 
incident  of  June  fifth  of  this  year.  Those  of  us 
who  know  Tish  best  realize  that  she  needs  no 
defence.  Her  motives  are  always  of  the  highest, 
although  perhaps  the  matter  of  the  police  officer 
was  ill-advised.  But  now  that  the  story  is  out, 
and  Mr.  Ostermaier  very  uneasy  about  the  wrong 
name  being  on  the  marriage  license,  I  think  an 
explanation  will  do  dear  Tish  no  harm. 

I  should  explain,  then,  that  Tish  has  retained 
the  old  homestead  in  the  country,  renting  it  to  a 
reliable  family.  And  that  it  has  been  our  annual 
custom  to  go  there  for  chestnuts  each  autumn. 
On  the  Sunday  following  Charlie  Sands'  visit, 
therefore,  while  Aggie  and  I  were  having  dinner 


82  MORE  TISH 


with  Tish,  I  suggested  that  we  make  our  annual 
pilgrimage  the  following  day. 

"What  pilgrimage?"  Tish  demanded.  She  was 
at  that  time  interested  in  seeing  if  a  table  could 
be  set  for  thirty-five  cents  a  day  per  person,  and 
the  meal  was  largely  beans. 

"For  chestnuts,"  I  explained. 

"I  don't  think  I'll  go  this  year,"  Tish  observed, 
not  looking  at  either  of  us.  "I'm  not  a  young 
woman,  and  climbing  a  chestnut  tree  requires 
youth." 

"You  could  get  the  farmer's  boy,"  Aggie  sug 
gested,  hopefully.  Aggie  is  a  creature  of  habit, 
and  clings  hard  to  the  past. 

"The  farmer  is  not  there  any  more." 

We  stared  at  her  in  amazement,  but  she  was 
helping  herself  to  boiled  dandelion  at  the  time, 
and  made  no  further  explanation. 

"Why,  Tish!"  Aggie  exclaimed. 

"Aggie.,"  she  observed,  severely,  "if  you  would 
only  remember  that  the  world  is  hungry,  you 
would  eat  your  crusts." 

"I  ate  crusts  for  twenty  years,"  said  Aggie, 
"because  I'd  been  raised  to  believe  they  would 
make  my  hair  curl.  But  I've  come  to  a  time  of 
life  when  my  digestion  means  more  to  me  than 
my  looks.  And  since  I've  had  the  trouble  with 
my  teeth " 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  83 

"Teeth  or  no  teeth,"  said  Tish,  firmly,  "eating 
crusts  is  a  patriotic  duty,  Aggie." 

She  was  clearly  disinclined  to  explain  about  the 
farm,  but  on  being  pressed  said  she  had  sent  the 
tenants  away  because  they  kept  pigs,  which  was 
absurd  and  she  knew  it. 

"Isn't  keeping  pigs  a  patriotic  duty?"  Aggie 
demanded,  glancing  at  me  across  the  table.  But 
Tish  ignored  the  question. 

"What  about  the  church?"  I  asked. 

Tish  has  always  given  the  farm  money  to  mis 
sions,  and  is  therefore  Honorary  President  of 
the  Missionary  Society.  She  did  not  reply  im 
mediately  as  she  was  pouring  milk  over  her  corn- 
starch  at  the  time,  but  Hannah,  her  maid,  spoke 
up  rather  bitterly. 

"If  we  give  the  heathen  what  we  save  on  the 
table,  Miss  Lizzie,"  she  said,  "I  guess  they'll  do 
pretty  well.  I'm  that  fed  up  with  beans  that  my 
digestion  is  all  upset.  I  have  to  take  baking  soda 
after  my  meals,  regular." 

Tish  looked  up  at  her  sharply. 

"Entire  armies  fight  on  beans,"  she  said. 

"Yes'm,"  said  Hannah.  "I'd  fight  on  'em  too. 
That's  the  way  they  make  me  feel.  And  if  a 
German  bayonet  is  any  worse  than  the  colic  I 
get " 


84 MORE  TISH 

"Leave  the  room,"  said  Tish,  in  a  furious  voice, 
and  finished  her  cornstarch  in  silencr. 

But  she  is  a  just  woman,  and  although  firm  in 
her  manner,  she  is  naturally  kind.  After  dinner, 
seeing  that  Aggie  was  genuinely  disappointed 
about  the  excursion  to  the  farm,  she  relented  and 
observed  that  we  would  go  to  the  farm  as  usual 

"After  all,"  she  said,  "chestnuts  are  nourish 
ing,  and  might  take  the  place  of  potatoes  in  a 
pinch." 

Here  we  heard  a  hollow  groan  from  the  pantry, 
but  on  Tish  demanding  its  reason  Hannah  said, 
meekly  enough,  that  she  had  knocked  her  crazy 
bone,  and  Tish,  with  her  usual  magnanimity,  did 
not  pursue  the  subject. 

There  was  a  heavy  frost  that  night,  and  two 
days  later  Tish  called  me  up  and  fixed  the  fol 
lowing  day  for  the  visit  to  the  farm.  On  look 
ing  back,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  her  usual 
enthusiasm  was  absent,  but  we  suspected  nothing. 
She  said  that  Hannah  would  put  up  the  luncheon, 
and  that  she  had  looked  up  the  food  value  of 
chestnuts  and  that  it  was  enormous.  She  par 
ticularly  requested  that  Aggie  should  not  bake  a 
cake  for  the  picnic,  as  has  been  her  custom. 

"Cakes,"  she  said,  "are  a  reckless  extrav 
agance.  In  butter,  eggs  and  flour  a  single  choco- 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  85 

late  layer  cake  could  support  three  men  at  the 
front  for  two  days,  Lizzie,"  she  said. 

I  repeated  this  to  Aggie,  and  she  was  rather 
resentful.  Aggie,  I  regret  to  say,  has  rather  a 
weakness  for  good  food. 

"Humph !"  she  said,  bitterly.  "Very  well,  Liz 
zie.  But  if  she  expects  me  to  go  out  like  Ba 
laam's  ass  and  eat  dandelions,  I'd  rather  starve." 

Neither  Aggie  nor  I  is  inclined  to  be  suspicious, 
and  although  we  noticed  Tish's  rather  abstracted 
expression  that  morning,  we  laid  it  to  the  fact 
that  Charlie  Sands  had  been  talking  about  going 
to  the  American  Ambulance  in  France,  which 
Tish  opposed  violently,  although  she  was  more 
than  anxious  to  go  herself. 

Aggie  put  in  her  knitting  bag  the  bottle  of 
blackberry  cordial  without  which  we  rarely 
travel,  as  we  find  it  excellent  in  case  of  chilling, 
or  indigestion,  and  even  to  rub  on  hornet  stings. 
I  was  placing  the  suitcase,  in  which  it  is  our  cus 
tom  to  carry  the  chestnuts,  in  the  back  of  the  car, 
when  I  spied  a  very  small  parcel.  Aggie  saw 
it  too. 

"If  that's  the  lunch,  Tish,"  she  said,  "I  don't 
know  that  I  care  to  go." 

"You  can  eat  chestnuts,"  said  Tish,  shortly. 
"But  don't  go  on  my  account.  It  looks  like  rain 
anyhow,  and  the  last  time  I  went  to  the  farm  in 


86  MORE  TISH 


the  mud  I  skidded  down  a  hill  backwards  and  was 
only  stopped  by  running  into  a  cow  that  thought 
I  was  going  the  other  way." 

"Nonsense,  Tish,"  I  said.  "It  hasn't  an  idea  of 
raining.  And  if  the  lunch  isn't  sufficient,  there 
are  generally  some  hens  from  the  Knowles  place 
that  lay  in  your  barn,  aren't  there?" 

"Certainly  not,"  she  said  stiffly,  although  it 
wasn't  three  months  since  she  had  threatened  to 
charge  the  Knowleses  rent  for  their  chickens. 

Well,  I  was  puzzled.  It  is  not  like  Tish  to  be 
irritable  without  reason,  although  she  has  un 
doubtedly  a  temper.  She  was  most  unpleasant  on 
the  way  out,  remarking  that  if  the  Ostermaiers's 
maid  continued  to  pare  away  half  the  potatoes, 
as  any  fool  could  see  around  their  garbage  can, 
she  thought  the  church  should  reduce  his  salary. 
She  also  stated  flatly  that  she  considered  that  the 
nation  would  be  better  off  if  some  one  would  un 
cork  a  gas  bomb  in  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  my  second  cousin,  once  re 
moved,  the  Honorable  J.  C.  Willoughby,  repre 
sents  his  country  in  its  legislative  halls. 

It  is  always  a  bad  sign  when  Tish  talks  poli 
tics,  especially  since  the  income  tax. 

Although  it  had  no  significance  for  us  at  the 
time,  she  did  not  put  her  car  in  the  barn  as  she 
usually  does,  but  left  it  in  the  road.  The  house 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  87 

was  closed,  and  there  was  no  cool  and  refreshing 
buttermilk  with  which  to  wash  down  our  frugal 
repast,  which  we  ate  on  the  porch,  as  Tish  did 
not  offer  to  unlock  the  house.  Frugal  repast  it 
was  indeed,  consisting  of  lettuce  sandwiches  made 
without  butter,  as  Tish  considered  that  both  but 
ter  and  lettuce  was  an  extravagance.  There 
were,  of  course,  also  beans. 

Now  as  it  happens,  Aggie  is  not  strong  and  re 
quires  palatable  as  well  as  substantial  food  to  en 
able  her  to  get  about,  especially  to  climb  trees. 
We  missed  her  during  the  meal,  and  I  saw  that 
she  was  going  toward  the  barn.  Tish  saw  it  also, 
and  called  to  her  sharply. 

"I  am  going  to  get  an  egg,"  Aggie  replied,  with 
gentle  obstinacy.  "I  am  starving,  Tish,  and  I  am 
certain  I  heard  a  hen  cackle.  Probably  one  of  the 
Knowles's  chickens " 

"If  it  is  a  Knowles's  chicken,"  Tish  said,  vir 
tuously,  "its  egg  is  a  Knowles's  egg,  and  we  have 
no  right  to  it." 

I  am  sorry  to  relate  that  here  Aggie  said :  "Oh, 
rats !"  but  as  she  apologized  immediately,  and  let 
the  egg  drop,  figuratively,  of  course,  peace  again 
hovered  over  our  little  party.  Only  momentarily, 
however,,  for,  a  short  time  after,  a  hen  undoubt 
edly  cackled,  and  Aggie  got  up  with  an  air  of 
determination. 


88  MORE  TISH 


"Tish,"  she  said,  "that  may  be  a  Knowles's  hen 
or  it  may  be  one  belonging  to  this  farm.  I  don't 
know,  and  I  don't  give  a — I  don't  care.  I'm 
going  to  get  it." 

"The  barn's  locked,"  said  Tish. 

"I  could  get  in  through  a  window." 

I  shall  never  forget  Tish's  look  of  scorn  as  she 
rose  with  dignity,  and  stalked  toward  the  barn. 

"I  shall  go  myself,  Aggie,"  she  said,  as  she 
passed  her.  "You  would  probably  fall  in  the  rain 
barrel  under  the  window.  You're  no  climber. 
And  you  might  as  well  eat  those  crusts  you've 
hidden  under  the  porch,  if  you're  as  hungry  as 
you  make  out  you  are." 

"Lizzie,"  Aggie  hissed,  when  Tish  was  out  of 
hearing,  "what  is  in  that  barn?" 

"It  may  be  anything  from  a  German  spy  to  an 
aeroplane,"  I  said.  "But  it's  not  your  business 


or  mine." 


"You  needn't  be  so  dratted  virtuous,"  Aggie 
observed,  scooping  a  hole  in  the  petunia  bed  and 
burying  the  crusts  in  it.  "Whatever's  on  her 
mind  is  in  that  barn." 

"Naturally,"  I  observed.    "While  Tish  is  in  it !" 

Tish  returned  in  a  short  time  with  one  egg, 

which  she  placed  on  the  porch  floor  without  a 

word.    But  as  she  made  no  effort  to  give  Aggie 

the  house  key,  and  as  Aggie  has  never  learned  to 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  89 

swallow  a  raw  egg,  although  I  have  heard  that 
they  taste  rather  like  oysters,  and  slip  down  in 
much  the  same  way,  Aggie  was  obliged  to  con 
tinue  hungry. 

It  is  only  just  to  record  that  Tish  grew  more 
companionable  after  luncheon,  and  got  into  a 
large  chestnut  tree  near  the  house  by  climbing  on 
top  of  the  hen  house.  We  had  always  before  had 
the  farmer's  boy  to  do  the  climbing  into  the  upper 
branches,  and  I  confess  to  a  certain  nervousness, 
especially  as  Tish,  when  far  above  the  ground,  de 
cided  to  take  off  her  dress  skirt,  which  was  her 
second  best  tailor-made,  and  climb  around  in  her 
petticoats. 

She  had  to  have  both  hands  free  to  unhook  the 
band,  and  she  very  nearly  overbalanced  while 
stepping  out  of  it. 

"Drat  a  woman's  clothes,  anyhow,"  she  said. 
"If  we  had  any  sense  we'd  wear  trousers." 

"I  understand,"  I  said,  "that  even  trousers  are 
not  easy  to  get  out  of,  Tish." 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  Lizzie,"  she  said  tartly,  "If 
I  had  trousers  on  I  wouldn't  have  to  take  them 
off.  Catch  it!" 

However,  the  skirt  did  not  fall  clear,  but  caught 
on  a  branch  far  out,  and  hung  there.  Tish  broke 
off  a  small  limb  and  poked  at  it  from  above,  and 
I  found  a  paling  from  a  fence  and  threw  it  up  to 


90  MORE  TISH 


dislodge  it.  But  it  stuck  tight,  and  the  paling 
came  down  and  struck  Aggie  on  the  head.  Had 
we  only  known  it,  this  fortunate  accident  prob 
ably  saved  Aggie's  life,  for  she  sat  down  sud 
denly  on  the  ground,  and  said  faintly  that  her 
skull  was  fractured. 

I  was  bending  over  Aggie  when  I  heard  a  sharp 
crack  from  above.  I  looked  up,  and  Tish  was 
lying  full  length  on  a  limb,  her  arm  out  to  reach 
for  the  skirt  and  a  most  terrible  expression  on 
her  face.  There  was  another  crack,  and  our  poor 
Tish  came  hurtling  through  the  air,  landing  half 
in  Aggie's  lap  and  half  in  the  suitcase. 

I  was  quite  unable  to  speak,  and  owing,  as  I 
learned  later,  to  Tish's  head  catching  her  near 
the  waist  line,  Aggie  had  no  breath  even  to 
scream. 

There  was  a  dreadful  silence.  Then  Tish  said, 
without  moving: 

"All  my  property  is  to  go  to  Charlie  Sands." 

"Tish!"  I  cried,  in  an  agony,  and  Aggie,  who 
still  could  not  speak,  burst  into  tears. 

However,  a  moment  later,  Tish  drew  up  first 
one  limb  and  then  the  other,  and  observed  that 
her  back  was  broken.  She  then  mentioned  that 
Aggie  was  to  have  her  cameo  set  and  the  dining 
room  sideboard,  and  that  I  was  to  have  the  auto 
mobile,  but  the  next  instant  she  felt  a  worm  on 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  91 

her  neck  and  sat  up,  looking  rather  dishevelled, 
but  far  from  death. 

"Where  are  you  hurt,  Tish?"  I  asked, 
trembling. 

"Everywhere,"  she  replied.  "Everywhere, 
Lizzie.  Every  bone  in  my  body  is  broken." 

But  after  a  time  the  aching  localized  itself  in 
her  right  arm,  which  began  to  swell.  We  led  her 
down  to  the  creek  and  got  her  to  hold  it  in  the 
cold  water  and  Aggie,  being  still  nervous  and 
unsteady,  slipped  on  a  mossy  stone  and  sat  down 
in  about  a  foot  of  water.  It  was  then  that  our 
dear  Tish  became  like  herself  again,  for  Aggie 
was  shocked  into  saying,  "Oh,  damn!"  and  Tish 
gave  her  a.  severe  lecture  on  profanity. 

Tish  was  quite  sure  her  arm  was  broken,  as 
well  as  all  the  ribs  on  one  side.  But  she  is  a  brave 
woman  and  made  little  fuss,  although  she  kept 
poking  a  finger  into  her  flesh  here  and  there. 

"Because,"  she  said,  "the  First  Aid  book 
says  that  if  a  lung  is  punctured  the  air  gets  into 
the  tissues,  and  they  crackle  on  pressure." 

It  was  soon  after  this  that  I  saw  Aggie,  who 
had  made  no  complaint  about  Tish  falling  on  her, 
furtively  testing  her  own  tissues  to  see  if  they 
crackled. 

Leaving  my  injured  there  by  the  creek,  I  went 
back  to  the  tree  and  secured  my  paling  again. 


92  MORE  TISH 


By  covering  it  with  straw  from  the  barn  I  was 
quite  sure  I  could  make  a  comfortable  splint  for 
Tish's  arm.  However,  I  had  but  just  reached  the 
barn  and  was  preparing  to  crawl  through  a  win 
dow  by  standing  on  a  rain  barrel  when  I  saw  Tish 
limping  after  me. 

"Well?"  she  said.     "What  idiotic  idea  is  in 
your    head,    Lizzie?      Because    if    it    is    more 


"I  am  going  to  get  some  straw  and  make  a 
splint." 

"Nonsense.    What  for?" 

"What  do  you  suppose  I  intend  it  for?"  I  de 
manded,  tartly.  "To  trim  a  hat?" 

"I  won't  have  a  splint." 

"Very  well,"  I  retorted.  "Then  I  shall  get 
some  straw  and  start  a  fire  to  dry  Aggie  out." 

"You'll  stick  in  that  window,"  Tish  said,  in 
what,  in  a  smaller  woman,  would  have  been  a 
vicious  tone. 

"Look  here,  Tish,"  I  said,  balancing  on  the 
edge  of  the  rain  barrel,  "is  there  something  in 
this  barn  you  do  not  wish  me  to  see?" 

She  looked  at  me  steadily. 

"Yes,"  she  said.  "There  is,  Lizzie.  And  I'll 
ask  you  to  promise  on  your  honor  not  to  men 
tion  it." 

That  promise  I  am  glad  to  say  I  have  kept 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  93 

until  now,  when  the  need  of  secrecy  is  past,  Tish 
herself  having  divulged  the  truth.  But  at  the 
time  I  was  greatly  agitated,  and  indeed  almost 
fell  into  the  rain  barrel. 

"Or  try  to  find  out  what  it  is,"  Tish  went  on, 
sternly. 

I  promised,  of  course,  and  Tish  relaxed  some 
what,  although  I  caught  her  eye  on  me  once  or 
twice,  as  though  she  was  daring  me  to  so  much 
as  guess  at  the  secret. 

"Of  course,  Lizzie,"  she  said,  as  we  approached 
Aggie,  "it  is  nothing  I  am  ashamed  of." 

"Of  course  not,"  I  replied  hastily.  I  took  my 
courage  in  my  hands  and  faced  her.  "Tish,  have 
you  an  aeroplane  hidden  in  that  barn?" 

"No,"  she  replied  promptly.  She  might  have 
enlarged  on  her  denial,  but  Aggie  took  a  violent 
sneezing  spell  just  then,  pressing  herself  between 
paroxysms  to  see  if  she  crackled,  and  we  decided 
to  go  home  at  once. 

Here  a  new  difficulty  presented  itself.  Tish 
could  not  drive  the  car !  I  shall  never  forget  my 
anguish  when  she  turned  to  me  and  said : 

"You  will  have  to  drive  us  home,  Lizzie." 

"Never!"  I  cried. 

"It's  perfectly  easy,"  she  went  on.  "If  chil 
dren  can  run  them,  and  the  idiots  they  have  in 
garages  and  on  taxicabs " 


94  MORE  TISH 


"Never,"  I  said  firmly.  "It  may  be  easy,  but 
it  took  you  six  months,  Tish  Carberry,  and  three 
broken  springs  and  any  number  of  dead  chickens 
and  animals,  besides  the  time  you  went  through 
a  bridge,  and  the  night  you  drove  off  the  end  of 
a  dock.  It  may  be  easy,  but  if  it  is,  I'd  rather 
do  something  hard." 

"I  shall  sit  beside  you,  Lizzie,"  she  said,  in  a 
patient  voice.  "I  daresay  you  know  which  is 
your  right  foot  and  which  is  your  left.  If  not, 
I  can  tell  you.  I  shall  say  'left'  when  I  want  you 
to  push  out  the  clutch,  and  'right'  for  the  brake. 
As  for  gears,  I  can  change  them  for  you  with  my 
left  hand." 

"I  could  do  it  sitting  in  a  chair,"  I  said,  in  a 
despairing  voice.  "But  Tish,"  I  said,  in  a  last 
effort,  "do  you  remember  when  you  tried  to  teach 
me  to  ride  a  bicycle  ?  And  that  the  moment  I  saw 
something  to  avoid  I  made  a  mad  dash  for  it  ?" 

"This  is  different,"  Tish  said.  "It  is  a 
car " 

"And  that  I  rode  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  into 
Lake  Penzance,  and  would  likely  have  ridden 
straight  across  if  I  hadn't  run  into  a  canoe  and 
upset  it?" 

"You  can  always  stop  a  car,"  said  Tish.  "Don't 
be  a  coward,  Lizzie.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to 
shove  hard  with  your  right  foot." 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  95 

Yet,  when  I  did  exactly  that,  she  denied  she 
had  ever  said  it.  Fond  as  I  am  of  Tish,  I  must 
admit  that  she  has  a  way  of  forgetting  things 
she  does  not  wish  to  remember. 

In  the  end  I  consented.  It  was  against  my 
better  judgment,  and  I  warned  Tish.  I  have  no 
talent  for  machinery,  but  indeed  a  great  fear  of 
it,  since  the  time  when  as  a  child  I  was  visiting 
my  grand-aunt's  farm  and  almost  lost  a  finger 
in  a  feed-cutter.  In  addition  to  that,  Tish's  acci 
dent  and  her  secret  had  both  unnerved  me.  I 
knew  that  calamity  faced  us  as  I  took  my  place 
at  the  wheel. 

Tish  was  still  in  her  petticoat,  as  we  were 
obliged  to  leave  her  dress  skirt  in  the  tree,  and 
Aggie  was  wrapped  in  the  rug  to  prevent  her 
taking  cold. 

"When  we  meet  a  buggy,"  Tish  said,  "we'd 
better  go  past  it  rather  fast.  I  don't  ache  to  be 
seen  in  a  seersucker  petticoat." 

"Fast."  I  said,  bitterly.  "You'd  better  pray 
that  we  go  past  it  at  all." 

However,  by  going  very  slowly,  I  got  the  thing 
as  far  as  the  gate  going  into  the  road.  Here 
there  was  a  hill,  and  we  began  to  move  too 
rapidly. 

"Slower,"  said  Tish.  "You've  got  to  make  a 
turn  here." 


96  MORE  TISH 


"How?"  I  cried,  frantically. 

"Brake!"  she  yelled. 

"Which  foot?" 

"Right  foot.    Right  foot!" 

However,  it  seems  that  my  right  foot  was  on 
the  gas  throttle  at  the  time,  which  she  had  for 
gotten.  I  jammed  my  foot  down  hard,  and  the 
car  seemed  to  lift  out  of  the  air.  We  went  across 
the  ditch,  through  a  stake  and  rider  fence, 
through  a  creek  and  up  the  other  side  of  the  bank, 
and  brought  up  against  a  haystack  with  a  ter 
rific  jolt. 

Tish  sat  back  and  straightened  her  hat  with  a 
jerk. 

"We'd  better  go  back  and  do  it  again,  Lizzie," 
she  said,  "because  you  missed  one  or  two  things." 

"I  did  what  you  told  me,"  I  replied,  sullenly. 

"Did  you?"  said  Tish.  "I  don't  remember  tell 
ing  you  to  leap  the  creek.  Of  course,  cross 
country  motoring  has  its  advantages.  Only  one 
really  should  have  solid  tires,  because  barbed  wire 
fences  might  be  awkward." 

She  then  sat  back  and  rested. 

"Well?"  I  said. 

"Well?"  said  Tish. 

"What  am  I  to  do  now?" 

"Oh!"  she  said.  "I  thought  you  preferred 
doing  it  your  own  way.  I  don't  object,  if  you 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  97 

don't.  You  are  quite  right.  Roads  do  become 
monotonous.  Only  I  doubt,  Lizzie,  if  you  can 
get  over  this  stack.  You'd  better  go  around  it." 

"Very  well,"  I  said.  "My  own  way  is  to  walk 
home,  Tish  Carberry.  And  if  you  think  I  am 
going  to  steer  a  runaway  automobile  you  can 
think  again." 

Aggie  had  said  nothing,  but  I  now  turned  and 
saw  her,  pale  and  shaken,  taking  a  sip  of  the 
blackberry  cordial  we  always  carry  with  us  for 
emergencies.  I  suggested  that  she  drive  the 
thing  home,  but  she  only  shook  her  head  and  mut 
tered  something  about  almost  falling  out  of  the 
back  end  of  the  car  when  we  leaped  up  out  of 
the  creek.  She  had,  she  asserted,  been  clear  up 
on  the  folded-back  top,  and  had  stayed  there  until 
the  jolt  against  the  haystack  had  thrown  her  for 
ward  into  the  seat  again. 

I  daresay  we  would  still  be  there  had  not  a 
young  man  with  a  gun  run  suddenly  around  the 
haystack.  He  foad  a  frightened  look,  but  when 
he  saw  us  all  alive  he  relaxed.  Unfortunately, 
however,  Aggie  still  had  the  bottle  of  blackberry 
cordial  in  the  air.  His  expression  altered  when 
he  saw  her,  and  he  said,  in  a  disgusted  voice : 

"Well,  I  be  damned!" 

Tish  had  not  seen  Aggie,  and  merely  observed 
that  she  felt  like  that  and  even  more.  She  then 


98  MORE  TISH 

remarked  that  I  had  broken  her  other  arm,  and 
her  nose,  which  had  struck  the  wind  shield.  But 
the  young  man  merely  gave  her  a  scornful  glance, 
and  leaning  his  gun  against  the  haystack,  came 
over  to  the  car  and  inspected  us  all  with  a  most 
scornful  expression. 

"I  thought  so!"  he  said.  "When  I  saw  you 
leaping  that  fence  and  jumping  the  creek,  I  knew 
what  was  wrong.  Only  I  thought  it  was  a  party 
of  men.  In  my  wildest  dreams — give  me  that 
bottle,,"  he  ordered  Aggie,  holding  out  his  hand. 

Now  it  is  Aggie's  misfortune  to  have  lost  her 
own  teeth  some  years  ago,  owing  to  a  country 
dentist  who  did  not  know  his  business.  And 
when  excited  she  has  a  way  of  losing  her  hold,  as 
one  may  say,  on  her  upper  set.  She  then  speaks 
in  a  thick  tone,  with  a  lisp. 

"Thertainly  not !"  said  Aggie. 

To  my  horror,  the  young  man  then  stepped  on 
the  running  board  of  the  car  and  snatched  the 
Ixrttle  out  of  her  hand. 

"I  must  say,"  he  said,  glaring  at  us  each  in 
turn,  "that  it  is  the  most  disgraceful  thing  I 
have  ever  seen."  His  eyes  stopped  at  Tish,  and 
traveled  over  her.  "Where  is  your  clothing?"  he 
demanded,  fiercely. 

It  was  then  that  Tish  rose  and  fixed  him  with 
a  glittering  eye. 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  99 

"Young  man,"  she  said,  "where  my  dress  skirt 
is  does  not  concern  you.  Nor  why  we  are  here 
as  we  are.  Give  Miss  Pilkington  that  bottle  of 
blackberry  cordial." 

"Blackberry  cordial!"  jeered  the  young  man. 

"As  for  what  you  evidently  surmise,  you  are  a 
young  idiot.  I  am  the  President  of  the  local 
branch  of  the  W.  C.  T.  U." 

"Of  course  you  are,"  said  the  young  man. 
"I'm  Carrie  Nation  myself.  Now  watch." 

He  then  selected  a  large  stone  and  smashed 
the  bottle  on  it. 

"Now,"  he  observed,  "come  over  with  the  rest 
of  it,  and  be  quick."  But  here  he  seemed  to  real 
ize  that  Tish's  face  was  rather  awful,  for  he 
stopped  bullying  and  began  to  coax.  "Now  see 
here,"  he  said.  "I'm  going  to  help  you  out  of 
this  if  I  can,  because  I  rather  think  it  is  an  acci 
dent.  You've  all  had  something  on  an  empty 
stomach.  Go  down  to  the  creek  and  get  some  cold 
water,  and  then  walk  about  a  bit.  I'll  see  what  I 
can  do  with  the  car." 

Aggie  was  weeping  in  the  rear  seat  by  that 
time,  and  I  shall  never  forget  Tish's  face.  Sud 
denly  she  got  out  of  the  car  and  before  he  real 
ized  what  was  happening,  she  had  his  gun  in  her 
good  hand. 

"Now,"  she  said,  waving  it  about  recklessly, 


100  MORE  TISH 


"I'll  teach  you  to  insult  sober  and  God-fearing 

women  whose  only  fault  is  that  one  of  them 

hasn't  all  the  wit  she  should  have  and  let  a  car 

run  away  with  her.    Lizzie,  get  out  of  that  seat." 

It  was  the  young  man's  turn  to  look  strange. 

"Be  careful!"  he  cried.     "Be  careful!     It's 

loaded,  and  the  safety  catch " 

"Get  out,  Aggie." 

Aggie  crawled  out,  still  holding  the  rug  around 
where  she  had  sat  down  in  the  creek. 

"Now,"  Tish  said,  addressing  the  stranger, 
"you  back  that  car  out  and  get  it  to  the  road. 
And  close  your  mouth.  Something  is  likely  to 
fly  into  it." 

"I  beg  of  you!"  said  the  young  man.  "Of 
course  I'll  do  what  I  can,  but — please  don't  wave 
that  gun  around." 

"Just  a  moment,"  said  Tish.  "That  blackberry 
cordial  was  worth  about  a  dollar.  Just  give  a 
dollar  to  the  lady  near  you.  Aggie,  take  that 
dollar.  Lizzie,  come  here  and  let  me  rest  this 
gun  on  your  shoulder." 

She  did,  keeping  it  pointed  at  the  young  man, 
and  I  could  hear  her  behind  me,  breathing  in 
short  gasps  of  fury.  Nothing  could  so  have  en 
raged  Tish  as  the  thing  which  had  happened,  and 
for  a  time  I  feared  that  she  would  actually  do 
the  young  man  some  serious  harm. 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  101 

He  sat  there  looking  at  us,  and  he  saw,  of 
course,  that  he  had  been  mistaken.  He  grew 
very  red,  and  said: 

"I've  been  an  idiot,  of  course.  If  you  will 
allow  me  to  apologize " 

"Don't  talk,"  Tish  snapped.  "You  have  all  you 
can  do  without  any  conversation.  Did  you  ever 
drive  a  car  before?" 

"Not  through  a  haystack,"  he  said  in  a  sulky 
voice. 

But  Tish  fixed  him  with  a  glittering  eye,  and 
he  started  the  engine. 

Well,  he  got  the  car  backed  and  turned  around, 
and  we  followed  him  through  the  stubble  as  the 
car  bumped  and  rocked  along.  But  at  the  edge 
of  the  creek  he  stopped  and  turned  around. 

"Look  here,"  he  said.  "This  is  suicide.  This 
car  will  never  do  it." 

"It  has  just  done  it,"  Tish  replied,  inexorably. 
"Go  on."  " 

"I  might  get  down,  but  I'll  never  get  up  the 
other  side." 

"Go  on." 

"Tish !"  Aggie  cried,  anguished.  "He  may  be 
killed,  and  you'll  be  responsible." 

Aggie  is  a  sentimental  creature,  and  the  young 
man  was  very  good-looking.  Indeed,  arriving  at 
the  brink,  I  myself  had  qualms.  But  Tish  has  a 


102  MORE  TISH 


will  of  iron,  and  was,  besides,  still  rankling  with 
insult.  She  merely  glued  her  eye  again  to  the 
sight  of  the  gun  on  my  shoulder,  and  said: 

"Go  on?' 

Well,  he  got  the  car  down  somehow  or  other, 
but  nothing  would  make  it  climb  the  other  side. 
It  would  go  up  a  few  feet  and  then  slide  back. 
And  at  last  Tish  herself  saw  that  it  was  hopeless, 
and  told  him  to  turn  and  go  down  the  creek  bed. 

It  was  a  very  rough  creek  bed,  and  one  of  the 
springs  broke  almost  at  once.  We  followed  along 
the  bank,  and  I  think  Tish  found  a  sort  of  grim 
humor  in  seeing  the  young  man  bouncing  up  into 
the  air  and  coming  down  on  the  wheel,  for  I 
turned  once  and  found  her  smiling  faintly. 
However,  she  merely  called  to  him  to  be  careful 
of  the  other  springs  or  she  would  have  to  ask 
him  to  pay  for  them. 

He  stopped  then,  in  a  pool  about  two  feet  deep, 
and  glared  up  at  her. 

"Oh,  certainly,"  he  said.  "I  suppose  the  fact 
that  I  have  permanently  bent  in  my  floating  ribs 
on  this  infernal  wheel  doesn't  matter.'*' 

At  last  he  came  to  a  shelving  bank,  and  got  the 
car  out.  I  think  he  contemplated  making  a  run 
for  it  then  and  getting  away,  but  Tish  observed 
that  she  would  shoot  into  the  rear  tires  if  he 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  103 

did  so.  So  he  went  back  to  the  road,  slowly,  and 
there  stopped  the  car. 

However,  Tish  was  not  through  with  him.  She 
made  him  climb  the  chestnut  tree  and  bring  down 
her  dress  skirt,  and  then  turn  his  back  while  she 
put  it  on.  By  that  time,  the  young  man  was  in  a 
chastened  mood,  and  he  apologized  handsomely. 

"But  I  think  I  have  made  amends,  ladies,"  he 
said.  "I  feel  that  I  shall  never  be  the  same  again. 
When  I  started  out  today  I  was  a  blithe  young 
thing,  feeling  life  in  every  limb,  as  the  poet  says. 
Now  what  I  feel  in  every  limb  does  not  belong  in 
verse.  May  I  have  the  shotgun,  please?" 

But  Tish  had  no  confidence  in  him,  and  we  took 
the  gun  with  us,  arranging  to  leave  it  at  the  first 
signpost,  about  a  mile  away.  We  left  him  there, 
and  Aggie  reported  that  he  stood  in  the  road  star 
ing  after  us  as  long  as  we  were  in  sight. 

Tish  drove  the  car  home  after  all,  steering  with 
one  hand  and  taking  the  wheel  off  a  buggy  on 
the  way.  I  sat  beside  her  and  changed  the  gears, 
and  she  blamed  the  buggy  wheel  on  me,  owing  to 
my  going  into  reverse  when  I  meant  to  go  ahead 
slowly.  The  result  was  that  we  began  to  back 
unexpectedly,  and  the  man  only  saved  his  horse 
by  jumping  him  over  a  watering  trough. 

I  have  gone  into  this  incident  with  some  care, 
because  the  present  narrative  concerns  itself  with 


104  MORE  TISH 


the  young  man  we  met,  and  with  the  secret  in 
Tish's  barn.  At  the  time,  of  course,  it  seemed 
merely  one  of  the  unpleasant  things  one  wishes 
to  forget  quickly.  Tish's  arm  was  only  sprained, 
and  although  Aggie  wore  adhesive  plaster  around 
her  ribs  almost  all  winter,  because  she  was  afraid 
to  have  it  pulled  off,  there  were  no  permanent  ill 
effects. 

The  winter  passed  quietly  enough.  Aggie  and 
I  made  Red  Cross  dressings  for  Europe,  and 
Tish,  tiring  of  knitting,  made  pajamas.  She  had 
turned  against  the  government,  and  almost  left 
the  church  when  she  learned  that  Mr.  Ostermaier 
had  voted  the  Democratic  ticket.  Then  in  Janu 
ary,  without  telling  any  one,  she  went  away  for 
four  days,  and  Sarah  Willoughby  wrote  me  later 
that  the  Honorable  J.  C,  her  husband,  said  that 
a  woman  resembling  Tish  had  demanded  from 
the  gallery  of  the  Senate  that  we  declare  war 
against  Germany  and  had  been  put  out  by  the 
Sergeant-at-arms. 

I  do  not  know  that  this  was  Tish.  She  re 
turned  as  unannounced  as  she  had  gone,  and  went 
back  to  her  pajamas,  but  she  was  more  quiet  than 
usual,  and  sometimes,  when  she  was  sewing,  her 
lips  moved  as  though  she  was  rehearsing  a  speech. 
She  observed  once  or  twice  that  she  wanted  to 
do  her  bit,  but  that  she  considered  digging 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  105 


trenches  considerably  easier  than  driving  a  sew 
ing  machine  twelve  miles  a  day. 

I  remember,  in  this  connection,  a  conversation 
I  had  with  Mrs.  Ostermaier  some  time  in  Jan 
uary.  She  asked  me  to  wait  after  the  Red  Cross 
meeting,  and  I  saw  trouble  in  her  eye. 

"Miss  Lizzie,"  she  said,  "do  you  think  Miss 
Tish  really  enjoys  sewing?" 

"Not  particularly,"  I  admitted.  "But  it  is  bet 
ter  than  knitting,  she  says,  because  it  is  faster. 
She  likes  to  get  results." 

"Exactly,"  Mrs.  Ostermaier  observed.  "I'll 
just  ask  you  to  look  at  this  pajama  coat  she  has 
turned  in." 

Well,  there  was  no  getting  away  from  it.  It 
was  wrong.  Dear  Tish  had  sewed  one  of  the 
sleeves  in  the  neck  opening,  and  had  opened  the 
sleeve  hole  and  faced  back  the  opening  and  put 
buttons  and  buttonholes  on  it. 

"Not  only  that,"  said  Mrs.  Ostermaier,  "but 
she  has  made  the  trousers  of  several  suits  wrong 
side  before  and  opened  them  up  the  back,  and 
men  are  such  creatures  of  habit.  They  like 
things  the  way  they  are  used  to  them." 

Well,  I  had  to  tell  Tish,  and  she  flew  into  a 
temper  and  said  Mrs.  Ostermaier  never  could  cut 
things  out  properly,  and  she  would  leave  the  so 
ciety.  Which  she  did.  But  she  was  very  un- 


106  MORE  TISH 


happy  over  it,  for  Tish  is  patriotic  to  her  finger 
tips. 

All  the  spring,  until  war  was  declared,  she  was 
restless  and  discontented,  and  she  took  to  long 
trips  in  the  car,  by  herself,  returning  moodier 
than  ever.  But  with  the  announcement  of  war 
she  found  work  to  do.  She  made  enlisting 
speeches  everywhere,  and  was  very  successful, 
because  Tish  has  a  magnetic  and  compelling  eye, 
and  she  would  fix  on  one  man  in  the  crowd  and 
talk  at  him  and  to  him  until  all  the  men  around 
were  watching  him.  Generally,  with  every  one 
looking  he  was  ashamed  not  to  come  forward, 
and  Tish  would  take  him  by  the  arm  and  lead 
him  in  to  the  recruiting  station. 

It  was  on  one  of  these  occasions  that  we  saw 
the  young  man  of  the  blackberry  cordial  again. 

Tish  saw  him  first,  from  the  tail  of  the  wagon 
she  was  standing  in.  She  fixed  him  with  her  eye 
at  once,  and  a  man  standing  near  him  said: 

"Go  on  in,  boy.  You're  as  good  as  in  the 
trenches  already.  She  landed  me  yesterday,  but 
I've  got  six  toes  on  one  foot.  Blessed  if  she 
didn't  try  to  take  me  to  a  hospital  to  have  one 
cut  off." 

"Now,"  said  Tish,  "does  any  one  wish  to  ask 
any  questions?" 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  107 

I  saw  the  blackberry  cordial  person  take  a  step 
forward. 

"I  would  like  to  ask  you  one,"  he  said.  "How 
do  you  reconcile  blackberry  cordial  with  the  W. 
C.  T.  U.?" 

Tish  went  white  with  anger,  and  would  no 
doubt  have  flayed  him  with  words,  as  our  black 
berry  cordial  is  made  from  her  own  grand 
mother's  recipe,  and  a  higher  principled  woman 
never  lived.  But  unluckily  the  driver  of  the  fur 
niture  wagon  we  were  standing  in  had  returned 
without  our  noticing  it,  and  drove  off  at  that 
moment,  taking  us  with  him. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Charlie  Sands 
came  to  see  me  one  day,  looking  worried. 

"Look  here,"  he  said,  "what's  this  about  my 
having  appendicitis?" 

"Well,  you  ought  to  know,"  I  replied  rather 
tartly.  "Don't  ask  me  if  you  have  a  pain." 

"But  I  haven't,"  he  said,  looking  aggrieved. 
"I'm  all  right.  I  never  felt  better." 

He  then  said  that  once,  when  a  small  boy,  he 
had  been  taken  with  a  severe  attack  of  pain,  fol 
lowing  a  picnic  when  he  had  taken  considerable 
lemonade  and  pickles,  followed  by  ice  cream. 

"I  had  forgotten  it  entirely,"  he  went  on.  "But 
the  other  day  Aunt  Tish  recalled  the  incident, 
and  suggested  that  I  get  my  appendix  out.  It 


108  MORE  TISH 


wouldn't  matter  if  she  had  let  it  go  at  that.  But 
she's  set  on  it.  I  may  waken  up  any  morning 
and  find  it  gone." 

I  could  only  stare  at  him,  for  he  is  her  favorite 
nephew,  and  I  could  not  believe  that  she  would 
forcibly  immolate  him  on  a  bed  of  suffering. 

"I  used  to  think  she  was  fond  of  me,"  he  con 
tinued.  "But  she's — well,  she's  positively  grew- 
some  about  the  thing.  She's  talked  so  much  about 
it  that  I  begin  to  think  I  have  got  a  pain  there. 
I'm  not  sure  I  haven't  got  it  now." 

Well,  I  couldn't  understand  it.  I  knew  what 
she  thought  of  him.  Had  she  not,  when  she  fell 
out  of  the  tree,  immediately  left  him  all  her  prop 
erty  ?  I  told  him  about  that,  and  indeed  about  the 
entire  incident,  except  the  secret  in  the  barn.  He 
grew  very  excited  toward  the  end,  however, 
where  we  met  the  blackberry-cordial  person,  and 
interrupted  me. 

"I  know  it  from  there  on,"  he  said.  "Only  I 
thought  Culver  had  made  it  up,  especially  about 
the  gun  being  levelled  at  him,  and  the  machine  in 
the  creek  bed.  He's  on  my  paper ;  nice  boy,  too. 
Do  you  mean  to  say — but  I  might  have  known, 
of  course." 

He  then  laughed  for  a  considerable  time,  al 
though  I  do  not  consider  the  incident  funny.  But 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  109 

when  I  told  him  about  Mr.  Culver's  impertinent 
question  at  the  recruiting  station,  he  sobered. 

"You  tell  her  to  keep  her  hands  off  him,"  he 
said.  "I  need  him  in  my  business.  And  it  won't 
take  much  to  sendliim  off  to  war,  because  he's 
had  a  disappointment  in  love  and  I'm  told  that  he 
wralks  out  in  front  of  automobiles  daily,  hoping 
to  be  struck  down  and  make  the  girl  sorry." 

"I  consider  her  a  very  sensible  young  woman," 
I  observed.  But  he  was  already  back  to  his 
appendix. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  "my  Aunt  Letitia  has  a 
positively  uncanny  influence  over  me,  and  if  I 
have  it  out. I  can't  enlist.  No  scars  taken." 

I  put  down  my  knitting. 

"Perhaps  that  is  the  reason  she  wants  it  done," 
I  suggested. 

"By  George !"  he  exclaimed. 

Well,  that  was  the  reason.  I  may  as  well  admit 
it  now.  Tish  is  a  fine  and  spirited  woman,  and 
as  brave  as  a  lion.  But  it  was  soon  evident  to 
all  of  us  that  she  was  going  to  keep  Charlie  Sands 
safe  if  she  could.  She  was  continually  referring 
to  his  having  been  a  sickly  baby,  and  I  am  quite 
sure  she  convinced  herself  that  he  had  been.  She 
spoke,  too,  of  a  small  cough  he  had  as  indicating 
weak  lungs,  and  was  almost  indecently  irritated 
when  the  chest  specialist  said  that  it  was  from 


110  MORE  TISH 


smoking,  and  that  if  he  had  any  more  lung  space 
the  rest  of  his  organs  would  have  had  to  move 
out. 

One  way  and  another,  she  kept  him  from  en 
listing  for  quite  a  time,  maintaining  that  to  run 
a  newspaper  and  keep  people  properly  informed 
was  as  patriotic  as  carrying  a  gun. 

I  remember  that  on  one  occasion,  when  he  had 
at  last  decided  to  join  the  navy  and  was  going  to 
Washington,  Tish  took  a  very  bad  attack  of  indi 
gestion,  and  nothing  quieted  her  until  after  train 
time  but  to  have  Charlie  Sands  beside  her,  feed 
ing  her  peppermint  and  hot  water. 

Then,  at  last,  the  draft  bill  was  passed,  and  she 
persuaded  him  to  wait  and  take  his  chance. 

We  were  at  a  Red  Cross  class,  being  taught 
how  to  take  foreign  bodies  out  of  the  ear,  when 
the  news  came.  Tish  was  not  paying  much  atten 
tion,  because  she  considered  that  if  a  soldier  got 
a  bullet  or  shrapnel  in  his  ear,  a  syringe  would  not 
help  him  much.  She  had  gone  out  of  the  room, 
therefore,  and  Aggie  had  just  had  a  bean  put  in 
her  auditory  canal,  and  was  sure  it  would  swell 
before  they  got  it  again,  when  Tish  returned. 
She  said  the  bill  had  passed,  and  that  the  age 
limit  was  thirty-one. 

Mrs.  Ostermaier,  who  was  using  the  syringe, 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  111 

let  it  slip  and  shot  a  stream  of  water  into  Aggie's 
right  eye. 

"Thirty-one !"  she  said.  "Well,  I  suppose  that 
includes  your  nephew,  Miss  Tish." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Tish.  "He  will  have  his 
thirty-second  birthday  on  the  fifth  of  June,  and 
he  probably  won't  have  to  register  at  all.  It's 
likely  to  be  July  before  they're  ready." 

"Oh,  the  fifth  of  June!"  said  Mrs.  Ostermaier, 
and  gave  Aggie  another  squirt. 

Now  Tish  and  I  have  talked  this  over  since, 
and  it  may  only  be  a  coincidence.  But  Mrs.  Os- 
termaier's  cousin  is  married  to  a  Congressman 
from  the  west,  and  she  sends  the  Ostermaiers  all 
his  speeches.  Mr.  Ostermaier  sends  on  his  ser 
mon,  too,  in  exchange,  and  every  now  and  then 
Mrs.  Ostermaier  comes  running  in  to  Tish  with 
something  delivered  in  our  national  legislature 
which  she  claims  was  conceived  in  our  pulpit. 

Anyhow,  when  the  draft  day  was  set,  it  was  the 
fifth  of  June! 

Aggie  and  I  went  to  Tish  at  once,  and  found 
her  sitting  very  quietly  with  the  blinds  down, 
and  Hannah  snivelling  in  the  kitchen. 

"It's  that  woman,"  Tish  said.  "When  I  think 
of  the  things  I've  done  for  them,  and  the  way  I've 
headed  lists  and  served  church  suppers  and  made 


112  MORE  TISH 

potato  salad  and  packed  barrels,  it  makes  me 
sick." 

Aggie  sat  down  beside  her  and  put  a  hand  on 
her  knee. 

"I  know,  Tish,"  she  said.  "Mr.  Wiggins  was 
set  on  going  to  the  Spanish  war.  He  said  that 
he  could  not  shoot,  but  that  he  would  be  valuable 
as  an  observer,  from  church  towers  and  things, 
because  he  was  used  to  being  in  the  air.  He 
would  have  gone,  too,  but 

"If  he  goes,"  Tish  said,  "he  will  never  come 
back.  I  know  it.  I've  known  it  ever  since  I  ran 
over  that  black  cat  the  other  day." 

Well,  we  had  to  leave  her,  as  Aggie  was  buying 
wool  for  the  Army  and  Navy  League.  We  went 
out,  very  low  in  our  minds.  What  was  our  sur 
prise,  therefore,  on  returning  late  that  afternoon, 
to  find  Tish  cheerfully  hoeing  in  the  garden  she 
had  planted  in  the  vacant  lot  next  door,  while 
Hannah  followed  her  and  gathered  up  in  a  bas 
ket  the  pieces  of  brick,  broken  bottles  and  buried 
bones  that  Tish  unearthed. 

"You  poor  dear!"  Aggie  said,  going  toward 
her.  "I  know  just  how  you  feel.  I " 

"Get  out!"  Tish  yelled,  in  a  furious  tone. 
"Look  what  you're  doing!  Great  heavens,  don't 
you  see  what  you've  done?  That  was  a  potato 
plant." 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  113 

We  tried  to  get  out,  although  I  could  see  noth 
ing  but  a  few  weeds,  but  she  yelled  at  us  every 
moment  and  at  last  I  gave  it  up. 

"I'd  rather  stay  here,  Tish,"  I  said,  "if  you 
don't  mind.  I  can  keep  the  dogs  away,  and, along 
in  the  autumn,  when  it's  safe  to  move,  you  can 
take  me  home,  or  put  me  in  a  can,  along  with  the 
other  garden  stuff." 

Here  Tish  fired  a  brick  at  Hannah's  basket, 
but  struck  her  in  the  knee  cap  instead,  and  down 
she  went  on  what  Tish  said  was  six  egg  plants. 
In  the  resulting  conversation  I  escaped,  and  went 
up  to  Tish's  sitting  room. 

Tish  followed  us  soon  after,  and  jerked  the 
window  shades  to  the  top. 

"There's  nothing  like  getting  close  to  nature," 
she  said.  "I  feel  like  a  different  woman,  after 
an  hour  or  so  of  the  soil." 

She  then  took  Hannah's  basket  and  placed  it 
on  the  window-sill  overlooking  the  vacant  lot,  ex 
plaining  that  she  used  its  contents  to  fling  at  dogs, 
cats  and  birds  below. 

"It  makes  a  little  extra  work  for  Hannah,"  she 
commented  "But  it's  making  a  new  woman  of 
her.  It  would  be  good  for  you,  too,  Lizzie. 
There's  nothing  like  bending  over  to  reduce  the 
abdomen." 


114  MORE  TISH 

But  Aggie,  having  come  to  mourn,  proceeded 
to  do  it. 

"To  think,"  she  said,  "that  if  they  had  only 
made  it  a  day  later,  dear  Charlie  would  have  been 
exempt.  It's  too  tragic,  Tish." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about," 
said  Tish  in  a  cold  tone.  "He  does  not  have  to 
register.  He  was  born  at  seven  in  the  morning, 
June  fifth." 

"In  the  evening,  Tish,"  said  Aggie  gently.  "I 
was  there,  you  know,  and  I  remember " 

Tish  gave  her  a  terrible  look. 

"Of  course  you  wrould  know,"  she  observed, 
icily.  "But  as  I  was  in  the  room,  and  recall  dis 
tinctly  going  out  and  telling  old  Amanda,  the 
cook,  about  breakfast " 

"Supper,"  said  Aggie  firmly.  "You  were  ex 
cited,  naturally.  But  I  was  in  the  hall  when  you 
came  out,  and  I  was  expecting  my  first  gentle 
man  caller,  which  no  girl  ever  forgets,  Tish.  I 
remember  that  Amanda  was  hooking  my  dress, 
which  was  very  tight,  because  we  had  waist  lines 
in  those  days  and  I  wanted " 

"Aggie,"  Tish  thundered,  "he  was  born  early 
in  the  morning  of  June  fifth.  He  will  be  thirty- 
two  years  of  age  early  in  the  morning  of  Regis 
tration  day.  And  if  he  tries  to  register  I  shall 
be  on  hand  with  the  facts." 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  115 

Well,  whether  she  was  right  or  not,  she  was 
convinced  that  she  was,  and  it  is  useless  to  argue 
with  her  under  those  circumstances.  Luckily 
she  heard  a  dog  in  the  lot  just  then,  and  threw 
down  a  broken  bottle  and  some  bricks  at  him, 
and  the  woman  in  the  apartment  below  raised  a 
window  and  threatened  to  report  her  to  the  Hu 
mane  Society.  But,  as  usual,  Tish  was  more  than 
her  equal. 

"Come  right  up,  then,"  she  said.  "Because  I 
am  a  member  of  the  Humane  Society  and  have 
been  for  twenty  years.  I  consider  throwing 
bricks  at  that  dog  as  patriotic  a  duty  as  killing  a 
German,  any  day." 

Here,  by  accident,  the  basket  slid  off  the  win 
dow-sill,  and  Tish  closed  the  window  violently. 

"It  hit  her  on  the  head,"  she  said,  in  what  I 
fear  was  an  exultant  tone.  "I  wouldn't  have 
done  it  on  purpose,  but  I  guess  it's  no  sin  to  be 
thankful." 

Because  the  incident  I  am  about  to  relate  con 
cerns  not  only  Registration  Day,  but  also  Mr.  Cul 
ver  and  the  secret  in  the  barn,  I  have  been  some 
time  in  getting  to  it.  And  if,  in  so  doing,  I  have 
reflected  at  any  time  either  on  Tish's  patriotism 
or  her  strict  veracity,  I  am  sorry.  No  one  who 
knows  Tish  can  doubt  either. 

In  spite  of  Aggie,  in  spite  of  Charlie  Sands, 


116 MORE  TISH 

who  protested  violently  that  he  distinctly  remem 
bered  being  born  in  the  evening,  because  he  had 
yelled  all  the  ensuing  night  and  no  one  had  had  a 
wink  of  sleep — in  spite  of  all  this,  Tish  remained 
firm  in  her  conviction  that  7  A.  M.  on  Registra 
tion  Day,  when  the  precincts  opened,  would  find 
him  too  old  to  register. 

On  the  surface  the  days  that  followed  passed 
uneventfully.  Tish  sewed  and  knitted,  and  once 
each  day  stood  Aggie  and  myself  on  the  outskirts 
of  her  garden  and  pointed  out  things  which  she 
said  would  be  green  corn,  and  tomatoes  and  pep 
pers  and  so  on.  But  there  was  a  set  look  about 
her  face,  to  those  of  us  who  knew  and  loved  her. 
She  had  moments  of  abstraction,  too,  and  during 
one  of  them  weeded  out  an  entire  row  of  spring 
onions,  according  to  Hannah. 

On  the  third  of  June  I  went  into  the  jeweller's 
to  have  my  watch  regulated,  and  found  Tish  at 
the  counter.  She  muttered  something  about  a 
main  spring  and  went  out,  leaving  me  staring 
after  her.  I  am  no  idiot,  however,  although  not 
Tish's  mental  equal  by  any  means,  and  I  saw  that 
she  had  been  looking  at  gentlemen's  gold  watches. 

I  had  a  terrible  thought  that  she  intended  try 
ing  to  purchase  Charlie  Sands  by  a  gift.  But  I 
might  have  known  her  high  integrity.  She  would 
not  stoop  to  a  bribe.  And,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  117 

happening  to  stop  at  the  Ostermaiers'  that  even 
ing  to  show  Mrs.  Ostermaier  how  to  purl,  I  found 
that  dear  Tish,  remembering  the  anniversary  of 
his  first  sermon  to  us,  had  presented  Mr.  Oster 
maier  with  a  handsome  watch. 

It  was  on  the  fourth  of  June  that  I  had  another 
visit  from  Charlie  Sands.  He  is  usually  a  most 
amiable  young  man,  but  on  that  occasion  he  came 
in  glowering  savagely,  and  on  sitting  down  on 
Aggie's  knitting,  which  was  on  steel  needles,  he 
flung  it  across  the  room,  and  had  to  spend  quite 
a  little  time  apologizing. 

"The  truth  is,"  he  said,  "I'm  so  blooming  up 
set  that  I'm  not  myself.  Let  me  put  these  needles 
back,  won't  you  ?  Or  do  they  belong  in  some  par 
ticular  place?" 

"They  do,"  Aggie  retorted  grimly.  "And  for 
a  young  man  who  will  be  thirty-two  tom.orrow 
morning " 

"Evening,"  he  corrected  her,  with  a  sort  of 
groan.  "I  see  she's  got  you  too.  Look  here,"  he 
went  on,  "I'm  in  trouble,  and  I'm  blessed  if  I 
see  my  way  out.  I  want  to  register  tomorrow. 
I  may  not  be  drawn,  because  I'm  an  unlucky  devil 
and  always  was.  But — I  want  to  do  my  bit." 

"Well,"  I  observed,  tartly.  "I  guess  no  one 
can  prevent  you.  Go  and  do  it,  and  say  nothing." 

"Not  at  all,"  he  replied,  getting  up  and  strid- 


118  MORE  TISH 


ing  up  and  down  the  room.  "Not  a  bit  of  it. 
I  grant  you  it  looks  simple.  Wouldn't  any  one 
in  his  senses  think  that  a  young  and  able-bodied 
man  could  go  and  put  his  name  down  as  being 
willing  to  serve  his  country  ?  Why,  she  herself — 
she's  crazy  to  go.  I'd  like  to  bet  a  hat  she'll 
get  there  before  long,  too,  and  into  the  front 
trenches." 

"Oh,  no !"  Aggie  wailed  suddenly. 

"But  not  I,"  went  on  Charlie  Sands  fiercely. 
"Not  I.  How  she  ever  got  around  that  old  fool 
Ostermaier  I  don't  know.  But  she  has.  He's 
appointed  her  an  assistant  registrar  in  his  pre 
cinct,  which  is  mine.  And  she'll  swear  until  she's 
black  in  the  face  that  I'm  over  age." 

"Can't  you  have  the  place  opened  before  seven 
in  the  morning?"  I  suggested. 

"I've  been  to  him,  but  he  says  the  law  is  seven 
o'clock.  Besides,"  he  added  bitterly,  "she  knows 
me,  and  as  like  as  not  she'll  sleep  there,  to  be  on 
hand  to  forestall  me." 

As  I  look  back,  I  am  convinced  that  a  desire 
to  do  his  bit,  as  he  termed  it,  was  only  a  part  of 
his  anger  that  evening.  The  rest  was  the  feeling 
that  Tish's  superior  acumen  had  foiled  him.  He 
had  a  truly  masculine  hatred  of  being  thwarted 
by  a  woman,  even  by  a  beloved  aunt. 

"Well,"  he  said  at  last,  picking  up  his  hat.    "I'll 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  119 

be  off."  He  went  to  the  door,  but  turned  back 
and  glowered  at  us  both,  although  I  am  sure  we 
had  done  nothing  whatever.  "But  mark  my 
words,  and  remind  her  of  them  the  day  after  to 
morrow.  This  thing's  not  over  yet.  She's  pretty 
devilish  clever" — (I  regret  to  record  this  word, 
but  he  was  greatly  excited) — "but  she  hasn't  all 
the  brains  in  the  family." 

For  a  day  that  was  to  contain  so  much,  how 
ever,  the  fifth  of  June  started  quietly  enough. 
We  telephoned  Hannah,  and  she  reported  that 
Tish  had  left  the  house  at  five-thirty,  although 
obliged  to  go  only  one  block  to  the  engine  house 
which  was  her  destination. 

So  far  as  I  can  learn,  for  Tish  is  very  uncom 
municative  about  the  entire  matter,  the  morning 
passed  quietly  enough.  She  had  taken  the  pre 
caution  of  having  her  folding  card  table  and  two 
pillows  sent  to  the  engine  house,  and  when  Aggie 
and  I  arrived  at  midday  she  was  seated  comfort 
ably,  with  her  hat  hung  on  a  lamp  of  the  fire 
truck.  When  we  arrived  she  was  asking  the  sex 
ton  of  the  Methodist  Church,  whom  she  has 
known  for  thirty  years,  if  he  had  lost  a  leg  or 
an  arm. 

Aggie  had  brought  a  basket  with  some  lunch- 
eon  for  her,  and  she  placed  it  on  the  truck.  But 
there  was  an  alarm  of  fire  soon  after,  and  the 


120  MORE  TISH 


thing  went  out  in  a  rush  with  the  lunch  and  also 
with  Tish's  hat. 

Tish  was  furiously  angry.  Indeed,  I  have  since 
thought  that  much  of  what  followed  was  due  to 
the  loss  of  the  luncheon,  which  the  firemen  de 
clared  they  had  not  seen,  although  Aggie  was 
positive  she  saw  one  of  them  eating  one  of  the 
doughnuts  that  afternoon  behind  a  newspaper. 

But,  worst  of  all,  Tish's  hat  was  missing.  It 
reappeared  later,  however,  but  was  brought  in 
by  the  engine  house  dog,  after  having  been  run 
over  by  the  Chief's  machine,  two  engines  and  a 
ladder  truck. 

As  I  say,  that  was  part  of  her  irritation,  but 
what  really  upset  her  was  the  number  of  married 
men.  More  than  once,  as  she  grew  excited,  I 
heard  her  say: 

"Married?    How  many  wives?" 

When  of  course  she  meant  how  many  children. 

She  had  registered  twenty-four  married  men 
and  two  single  ones  by  one  o'clock,  and  she  was 
looking  very  discouraged.  But  at  one  o'clock  the 
clerk  from  the  shoe  store  at  the  corner  came  in, 
and  said  he  had  dependent  on  him  a  wife,  four 
children,  a  mother-in-law,  a  sister-in-law  and  his 
sister-in-law's  husband. 

"Of  course,"  Tish  said  bitterly,  "you  claim 
exemption." 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT          121 

"Me?"  he  said.  "Me,  Miss  Carberry?  My 
God,  no." 

Well,  about  two  o'clock  Charlie  Sands  came  in. 
Tish  saw  him  the  moment  he  entered  the  door, 
and  stopped  work  to  watch  him.  But  he  made  no 
attempt  to  register.  He  said  he  was  doing  a 
column  of  slackers  for  the  next  morning's  paper. 

"There's  aren't  many,"  he  said,  "but  of  course 
there  are  some.  The  license  court  is  the  place  to 
nail  them." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  Tish  demanded, 
"that  there  are  traitors  in  this  country  who  are 
getting  married  today?" 

"There  are,"  said  Charlie  Sands,  sitting  down 
on  the  fire  truck.  "Even  so,  beloved  aunt.  They 
are  gettng  married  so  they  can  claim  exemption 
because  of  a  dependent  wife.  And  I'll  bet  the  or 
phan  asylums  are  full  of  fellows  trying  to  get 
ready-made  families." 

Tish  is  a  composed  and  self-restrained  woman, 
but  she  spoke  so  distinctly  of  how  she  felt  about 
such  conduct  that  Charlie  Murray,  our  grocer's 
assistant,  who  has  four  children,  did  not  so  much 
as  mention  them  when  she  made  out  his  card. 

"Of  course,"  Charlie  Sands  observed,  "I  don't 
want  to  dictate  to  you,  because  you're  doing  all 
that  can  be  expected  of  you  now.  But  if  some 
one  would  go  to  the  license  court  and  tell  those 


122  MORE  TISH 


fellows  a  bit  of  wholesome  truth,  it  might  be 
valuable." 

"You  do  it,  Lizzie,"  Tish  said. 

"I?  I  never  made  a  speech  in  my  life,  Tish 
Carberry,  and  you  know  it." 

"And  I  never  before  tried  to  get  the  truth  from 
an  idiot  who  says  he  is  twenty-eight  and  has  a 
daughter  of  eighteen !  See  here,"  Tish  said  to  a 
man  in  front  of  her,  waving  her  pen  and  throw 
ing  a  circle  of  ink  about.  "I'll  have  you  know 
that  I  represent  the  government  today,  and  if 
you  think  you  are  being  funny,  you  are  not." 

Well,  it  turned  out  that  he  had  married  a 
widow  with  a  child,  but  had  a  cork  leg  anyhow, 
so  it  made  no  difference.  But  Tish's  mind  was 
not  on  her  work.  However,  she  was  undecided 
until  Charlie  Sands  said: 

"By  the  way,  I  saw  your  friend  Culver  among 
the  Cupid-chasers  today.  And  this  is  his  district. 
You'd  better  round  him  up." 

"Culver!"  Tish  said.     "Do  you  mean  that— 
'Lizzie,  where's  my  hat?" 

Well,  we  had  to  recover  it  again  from  the  en 
gine  house  dog,  whom  we  found  burying  it  in 
the  back  yard.  Tish's  mind,  however,  was  far 
away,  and  she  merely  brushed  it  absently  with 
her  hand  and  stuck  it  on  her  head.  Then  she 
turned  to  Charlie  Sands. 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  123 

"I'm  going  to  the  license  court,"  she  said,  be 
tween  clenched  teeth.  "And  I  am  going  to  show 
that  young  fool  that  he  is  not  going  to  hide  behind 
any  petticoats  today." 

"It's  his  privilege  to  get  married  if  he 
wants  to." 

"When  I  finish  with  him,"  said  Tish,  grimly, 
"he  won't  want  to." 

All  the  way  to  the  court  house  Tish's  lips  were 
moving,  and  I  knew  she  was  rehearsing  what  she 
meant  to  say.  I  think  that  even  then  her  shrewd 
and  active  mind  had  some  foreboding  of  what 
was  to  come,  for  she  called  back  unexpectedly  to 
Aggie: 

"Look  in  the  right-hand  pocket  and  see  if  there 
is  a  box  of  tacks  there." 

"Tacks?"  said  Aggie.  "Why,  what  in  the 
world " 

"I  had  tacks  to  nail  up  flags  this  morning. 
Well?" 

"They  are  here,  Tish,  but  no  hammer." 

"I  shan't  need  a  hammer,"  Tish  replied, 
cryptically 

I  am  afraid  I  had  expected  Tish  to  lead  the 
way  into  the  license  court  and  break  out  into 
patriotic  fury.  But  how  little,  after  all,  I  knew 
her!  Already  in  that  wonderful  brain  of  hers 
was  seething  the  plot  which  was  so  to  alter  cer- 


124  MORE  TISH 


tain  lives,  and  was  to  leave  an  officer  of  the  law — 
but  that  comes  later  on. 

Mr.  Culver  was  at  the  desk.  Just  as  we  ar 
rived,  a  clerk  handed  him  a  paper,  and  he  walked 
across  the  room  to  an  ice-water  cooler  and  took 
a  drink. 

"The  slacker !"  said  Tish,  from  clenched  teeth. 
"The  coward!  The  poltroon!  The " 

At  that  moment  Mr.  Culver,  with  a  paper  cup 
in  his  hand,  saw  us  and  stared  at  us  fixedly.  The 
next  moment  he  had  whipped  off  his  hat,  and  was 
coming  toward  us. 

"Well!"  he  said,  as  he  came  up  to  us,  "so  it 
really  did  happen !" 

Tish  took  a  deep  breath,  to  begin  on  him,  but 
he  went  on  blithely: 

"You  see,  when  I  got  back  home  that  day,  I 
felt  it  hadn't  really  been  true.  I  had  not  gone 
rabbit-shooting,  and  found  three  ladies  half- 
buried  in  a  haystack.  And  of  course  I  had  not 
driven  an  automobile  along  a  creek  bed  and 
through  the  old  swimming  hole,  with  my  own 
gun  levelled  at  my  back." 

Tish  took  another  breath  and  opened  her 
mouth. 

"Then,  the  other  day,"  he  went  on,  smiling 
cheerfully,  "I  thought  I  had  had  a  return  of  the 
hallucination,  because  I  fancied  I  saw  you  all  on  a 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  125 

wagon.     But  the  next  moment  the  wagon  was 
driving  on,  and  you  were  nowhere  in  sight." 

'That  was  because,"  said  Aggie,  "when  the 
wagon  started  we  all  sat  down  unexpectedly, 
and " 

"Aggie!"  Tish  said,  in  a  savage  tone.  "Now, 
young  man,  I  want  to  say  something  to  you,  and 
I'd  thank  you " 

"Oh,  I  say !"  he  broke  in,  looking  suddenly  de 
pressed,  "I  can  see  you  are  still  down  on  me.  But 
don't  scold  me.  Please  don't.  Because  I  am  a 
sensitive  person,  and  you  will  ruin  what  was 
going  to  be  a  perfect  day.  I  know  I  was  wrong. 
I  apologize.  I  eat  my  words.  And  now  I'll  leave 
you,  because  if  you  should  vanish  into  thin  air 
again  I  should  have  to  go  and  lock  myself  up." 

Well,  with  all  his  gaiety  he  did  not  look  par 
ticularly  gay,  and  he  was  rather  hollow  in  the 
cheeks.  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was 
going  to  marry  another  young  woman,  partly  to 
keep  out  of  going  to  war,  but  partly  to  spite  the 
first.  I  must  say  I  felt  rather  sorry  for  him, 
especially  when  I  saw  the  way  he  looked  at  her. 
Oh,  yes,  I  picked  her  out  at  once,  because  she 
never  took  her  eyes  off  him. 

I  didn't  think  she  was  fooled  much,  either,  be 
cause  she  looked  as  if  she  needed  to  go  off  in+n 


126  MORE  TISH 


a  corner  and  have  a  good  cry.  Well,  she  got  her 
wish  later,  if  that  was  what  she  wanted. 

But  Tish  is  a  woman  of  one  idea.  While  he 
chattered  with  one  eye  on  the  girl,  Tish  was 
eyeing  him  coldly.  At  last  she  caught  him  by 
the  arm. 

"I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  young  man," 
she  commenced.  "I  want  to  ask  you  what  you 
think  of  any  one  who " 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  interrupted,  and  freed 
his  arm.  "Awfully  sorry.  I  think  a  young  lady 
over  there  wishes  to  speak  to  me." 

He  left  us  briskly  enough,  but  he  slowed  up  be 
fore  he  got  across  the  room.  He  stopped  once 
and  half  turned,  too,  with  the  unhappiest  face 
I've  ever  seen  on  a  human  being.  Aggie  was 
feeling  in  her  knitting  bag  for  the  glasses. 

"Is  she  pretty?"  she  asked. 

"Too  pretty  to  be  a  second  choice,"  I  replied, 
shortly.  "She's  a  nice  little  thing,  and  deserves 
something  better  than  a  warmed-over  heart." 

Tish  had  been  angry  enough  before,  but  when 
I  told  her  that  he  had  been  disappointed  in  love, 
and  was  merely  making  the  girl  a  tool,  her  eyes 
were  savage. 

"She  is  pretty,"  Aggie  observed.  "Perhaps, 
after  all,  he  does  love  her.  Or  if  not  he  may 
learn  to.  And  he  cannot  be  very  unhappy  about 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  127 

marrying  her.  He  said,  you  know,  it  was  a 
perfect  day." 

"Go  down  and  get  into  the  car,"  Tish  said,  in 
a  choking  voice.  "I'll  fix  his  perfect  day  for 
him.  Go  down  and  start  the  engine." 

I  took  a  last  glance  as  Aggie  and  I  left  the 
License  Court,  and  if  we  had  had  any  doubts 
they  vanished  then,  because  he  was  speaking  to 
the  girl  with  angry  gestures,  and  she  was  cer 
tainly  crying. 

"Brute,"  Tish  said,  with  her  eyes  on  him.  "A 
bully  as  well  as  a  slacker.  Never  mind.  She 
won't  have  to  put  up  with  him  long.  If  I  have 
any  influence  in  this  community  that  youth  will 
be  drafted  and  sent  to  a  mud  hole  in  France. 
Mark  my  words,"  she  went  on,  settling  her  hat 
with  a  jerk,  "that  boy  will  be  registered  as  a 
single  man  before  this  day's  over.  Go  and  start 
the  engine,  Lizzie.  I  daresay  you  remember  that 
much." 

Seeing  that  she  had  a  plan,  and  "ours  not  to 
reason  why,  ours  but  to  do  and  die,"  as  Aggie 
frequently  quotes,  we  went  down  to  the  street 
again.  I  was  even  then  vaguely  apprehensive, 
an  apprehension  not  without  reason,  as  it  turned 
out.  For,  reaching  over  to  start  the  engine,  as 
Tish  had  taught  me  by  turning  a  lever  on  the 
dashboard  and  moving  up  a  throttle  on  the  wheel, 


128  MORE  TISH 


what  was  my  horror  to  see  the  car  moving  slowly 
off,  with  Aggie  in  the  rear  seat  and  as  white  as 
chalk. 

Tish,  in  her  patriotic  fervor,  had  stopped  the 
thing  in  gear. 

I  ran  beside  it,  but  was  unable  to  get  onto  the 
running  board.  I  then  saw  Aggie,  generally  so 
timid,  crawling  over  the  back  of  the  seat,  and 
called  to  her  to  put  on  the  brake.  She  did  so, 
but  not  until  the  car  had  mounted  the  sidewalk 
and  struck  a  policeman  in  the  back. 

This  would  not  be  worth  recording,  as  there 
were  no  immediate  results,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  policeman.  It  brought  us  to  his  attention, 
and  came  near  to  ruining  Tish's  plan.  But  of 
this  later  on. 

I  do  not,  even  now,  know  just  what  arguments 
Tish  used  with  Myrtle.  Yes,  that  was  her  name. 
We  had  a  great  deal  of  time  later  on  to  learn 
her  name,  and  all  about  her.  The  matter  is  a 
delicate  one,  and  we  have  not  since  discussed  the 
events  of  that  day.  But  Aggie  said  later  on, 
when  we  were  sitting  in  the  dark  and  wondering 
what  to  do  next,  that  Tish  had  probably  waited 
until  Mr.  Culver  went  out  to  look  up  a  minister. 

Whatever  Tish  said  or  did,  the  result  was  that 
only  a  short  time  after  Aggie  had  jammed  on 
the  brake,  they  came  out  together,  and  Tish  was 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  129 

carrying  a  suitcase.  Myrtle  was  hanging  back, 
but  Tish  had  her  by  the  arm. 

At  first  she  did  not  see  us.  When  she  did, 
however,  she  worked  her  way  through  the  crowd 
and  opened  the  rear  door. 

"Get  in,"  she  said,  in  an  uncompromising  tone. 

"But  I  really  think/'  said  Myrtle,  "that  I 
should " 

"Get  in,"  Tish  said  again,  firmly.  "We  can 
talk  it  over  later." 

"But  are  you  sure  he  sent  for  me?"  she  de 
manded,  looking  ready  to  cry  again.  "I  think 
it  must  be  a  mistake.  He  said  to  wait,  and  he 
would  come  back  as  soon  as " 

It  was  the  crowd  that  really  settled  the  mat 
ter,  for  some  one  yelled  that  the  girl  had  been 
eloping  and  that  her  mother  had  caught  her  in 
the  License  Court.  Most  of  them  were  men,  but 
they  called  to  Myrtle  not  to  let  the  old  lady 
bully  her.  Also  one  young  man  said  that  if  her 
young  man  didn't  come  back  she  could  have  him 
and  welcome.  It  frightened  Myrtle,  and  she  got 
into  the  car  and  asked  Tish  to  drive  away 
quickly. 

"I  know  it  will  be  in  the  papers,"  she  said  for 
lornly.  "And  my  people  think  I  am  at  a  house 
party." 


130  MORE  TISH 


But  the  next  moment  I  caught  her  looking-  at 
Tish's  hat,  and  her  lip  quivered. 

"I  guess  I'm  nervous,"  she  said,  in  a  choking 
voice.  "I  had  no  idea  it  was  so  much  trouble 
to  get  married." 

Tish  heard  her,  although  she  had  her  hands 
full  getting  the  car  back  to  the  street.  She  said 
nothing  until  we  were  in  the  street  again,  and 
moving  away  slowly. 

''Then  you  might  as  well  settle  down  and  be 
quiet,"  she  said.  "Because  you  are  not  going 
to  be  married  today." 

Myrtle  may  have  suspected  something  before 
that,  perhaps  when  she  first  saw  Tish's  hat,  for 
she  looked  dazed  for  a  moment,  and  then  stood 
up  in  the  car  and  yelled  that  she  was  being  kid 
napped.  Tish  threw  on  the  gas  just  then,  and  she 
had  to  sit  down,  but  I  looked  back  just  in  time 
to  see  Mr.  Culver  and  the  policeman  standing 
in  the  center  of  the  street,  gesticulating  madly. 

"Little  fool!"  Tish  muttered,  and  bent  low 
over  the  wheel. 

Well,  they  followed  us.  At  the  top  of  the 
first  hill  the  girl  was  crying  hard,  and  there  were 
eleven  automobiles,  Aggie  counted,  not  far  be 
hind  us.  At  the  end  of  the  next  rise  there  were 
still  ten.  It  was  then  that  Tish,  with  her  custom- 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  131 

ary  presence  of  mind,  told  us  to  scatter  the  tacks 
over  the  road  behind  us. 

The  result  was  that  only  four  were  to  be  seen 
when  we  got  to  the  top  of  Graham's  Hill,  and 
they  had  lost  time  and  were  far  away.  Tish  was 
in  a  terrible  way.  Her  plan  had  been  merely  to 
take  the  girl  away,  because  Culver  belonged  in 
her  precinct  and  it  was  her  business,  as  ordered 
by  the  government,  to  gather  in  all  the  slackers, 
matrimonial  or  otherwise.  Then,  after  Culver 
had  registered  as  a  single  man,  he  could,  as  Tish 
tersely  observed  later,  either  marry  or  go  and 
drown  himself.  It  was  immaterial  to  her. 

But  now  we  were  likely  to  be  arrested  for  ab 
duction,  and  the  whole  thing  would  get  in  the 
papers. 

"Tish,"  Aggie  begged,  "do  stop  and  put  her 
out  in  the  road.  That  Culver  and  the  policeman 
are  in  the  first  car.  I  can  see  them  plainly — and 
they  can  pick  her  up  and  take  her  back." 

But  Tish  ignored  her,  and  kept  on.  She  mere 
ly  asked,  once,  if  we  had  any  scissors  with  us, 
and  on  Aggie  finding  a  pair  in  her  knitting  bag, 
said  to  get  them  out  and  have  them  ready. 

I  pause  here  for  a  moment  to  reflect  on  Tish's 
resourcefulness.  How  many  times,  in  the  years 
of  our  association,  has  her  active  brain  come  to 
our  rescue  in  trying  times  ?  And,  once  the  danger 


132  MORE  TISH 


is  over,  how  quickly  she  becomes  again  one  of  us, 
busy  with  her  charities,  her  Sunday  school  class, 
and  her  knitting  for  the  poor !  Indomitable  spirit 
and  Christian  soul,  her  only  fault,  if  any,  perhaps 
a  slight  lack  of  humor,  that  is  Letitia  Carberry. 

"Watch  for  a  barbed  wire  fence,  Lizzie,"  she 
said,  as  we  flew  along.  "And  see  how  near  they 
are." 

Well,  they  were  very  close,  but  owing  to  Tish 
leaving  the  macadam  at  this  point,  they  lost 
time  at  a  cross-roads.  At  the  top  of  the  next  hill 
Aggie  said  she  could  not  see  anything  of  them. 
It  was  then  that  Myrtle  tried  to  jump  out,  and 
would  have  succeeded  had  not  Tish  speeded  up 
the  car. 

I  could  hear  Aggie  trying  to  soothe  her,  and 
telling  her  that  Tish  was  not  insane,  but  was 
merely  saving  her  from  a  terrible  fate. 

"I  have  never  been  married,  my  dear,  owing 
to  an  unfortunate  circumstance,"  she  said,  in  her 
gentle  voice.  "But  to  marry  without  love " 

The  girl  sat  up,  startled. 

"But  how  do  you  know  I  don't  love  him?"  she 
demanded. 

"I  am  speaking  of  the  young  man,"  said  Aggie. 
"My  dear  child,  ail  over  this  great  land  of  ours 
today,  here  and  there  are  wretches  who  would 
use  a  confiding  young  woman  in  order " 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  133 

"Barbed  wire!"  said  Tish  exultantly,  and 
stopped  the  car  with  a  jerk.  In  an  instant  she 
was  out  in  the  road,  cutting  lengths  of  barbed 
wire  from  a  fence  with  the  scissors  and  placing 
them  across  the  road  behind  us.  Her  expression 
was  set  and  tense.  When  she  had  placed  some 
six  pieces  of  wire  in  position,  she  returned  to  the 
car. 

"We  can  thank  the  war  for  that,"  she  ob 
served,  coolly.  "As  long  as  the  barbed  wire 
fences  hold  out  they'll  never  get  us." 

The  first  car  was  in  sight  by  that  time,  and  we 
could  see  that  Mr.  Culver  and  the  policeman  were 
in  it.  They  shouted  with  joy  when  they  saw  us, 
but  Tish  merely  smiled,  and  let  in  the  clutch. 
Soon  after  we  heard  a  series  of  small  explosions, 
and  Tish  observed  that  the  enemy  attack  was 
checked  against  our  barbed  wire,  and  that  she 
reckoned  we  could  hold  the  position  indefinitely. 

Aggie  looked  back  and  reported  that  they  were 
both  out  of  the  car,  and  that  the  policeman  was 
standing  on  one  foot  and  hopping  up  and  down. 

It  had  been  Tish's  intention,  as  I  learned  later, 
merely  to  take  the  young  woman  for  a  country 
ride,  and  there  to  strive  to  instill  into  her  the 
weakness  and  foliy  of  being  married  by  Mr.  Cul 
ver  as  an  exemption  plea.  But  as  we  had  been 


134 MORE  TISH 

making  forty-five  miles  an  hour  by  the  speed 
ometer,  there  had  been  little  opportunity. 

However,  as  the  last  car  was  now  standing-  on 
four  rims  in  the  barbed  wire  entanglement  be 
hind  us,  and  as  Tish's  farm  was  not  far  ahead, 
she  improved  the  occasion  with  a  short  but  highly 
patriotic  speech,  flung  over  her  shoulder. 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Myrtle,  sullenly.  "He 
loves  me.  We  only  ran  away  today  instead  of 
some  other  day  later  because  my  father  is  lead 
ing  the  parade  in  my  town,  and  mother  is  present 
ing  a  flag  at  the  schoolhouse." 

"Very  well,"  said  Tish.  "If  he  loves  you,  well 
and  good.  When  your  young  man  has  registered, 
I'll  see  that  you  get  married,  if  I  have  to  kidnap 
a  preacher  to  do  it.  But  I'll  tell  you  right  now, 
I  don't  think  you'll  be  getting  anything  worth 
having." 

Well,  Myrtle  grew  quieter  then,  and  I  heard 
Aggie  saying  Miss  Tish  never  made  a  promise 
she  could  not  fulfill.  She  then  told  about  Mr. 
Wiggins,  and  had  just  reached  the  place  where 
he  had  slipped  on  the  eve  of  his  wedding  and 
fallen  off  a  roof,  when  the  car  stopped  dead. 

Tish  pushed  a  few  things  on  the  dashboard, 
but  it  only  hiccoughed  twice  and  then  stopped 
breathing. 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  135 

"No  gasoline!"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  rage. 
"We'll  have  to  run  for  it." 

The  farmhouse  was  in  sight  now,  about  a  half 
mile  ahead.  Aggie  groaned,  but  got  out  and 
turned  to  Myrtle.  But  Myrtle  was  sitting  back 
in  the  car  with  a  gleam  of  triumph  in  her  eyes. 

"Certainly  not,"  she  said  calmly. 

"Very  well,"  Tish  replied.  "I  don't  know  but 
you  are  just  as  well  where  you  are.  That  last 
car  is  done  for,  if  I  know  anything  about  barbed 
wire,  and  they're  not  likely  to  chase  a  machine 
on  foot.  They're  probably  on  their  way  back 
to  town  now,  and  I  hope  the  policeman  has  to 
hop  all  the  way.  It's  only  forty  miles  or  so." 

She  then  started  up  the  road,  but  turned : 

"Bring  her  suitcase,  Lizzie,"  she  said.  "There's 
no  use  leaving  it  there  for  tramps  to  come  along 
and  steal  it." 

She  then  stalked  majestically  up  the  road,  and 
we  followed.  I  am  not  a  complaining  woman, 
but  if  that  girl  had  left  any  clothes  at  home 
they  couldn't  have  amounted  to  much.  Aggie  re 
fused  to  help  with  the  suitcase,  as  she  had  her 
knitting  bag,  and  as  any  exertion  in  summer 
brings  on  her  hay  fever. 

It  was  perh'aps  five  minutes  later  that  I  heard  a 
faint  call  behind  me,  and  turned  to  see  Myrtle 


136  MORE  TISH 


coming  along  behind.    She  was  not  crying  now, 
and  her  mouth  was  shut  tight. 

"I  suppose,"  she  said  angrily,  "that  it  does  not 
matter  if  tramps  get  me." 

"Miss  Tish  invited  you  to  the  farm,"  I  replied. 

"Invited!"  she  snapped.  "If  this  is  what  she 
calls  an  invitation,  I'd  hate  to  have  her  make  it  a 
request." 

However,  she  seemed  to  be  really  a  very  nice 
girl,  although  misguided,  for  she  took  one  end  of 
the  suitcase.  But  I  learned  then  how  difficult  it 
is  for  the  average  mind  to  grasp  the  high  moral 
purpose  and  lofty  conception  of  a  woman  like, 
Tish. 

"I  might  as  well  tell  you  now,"  she  said,  "that 
I  don't  believe  they'll  pay  any  large  sum.  They're 
not  going  to  be  very  keen  about  me  at  home,  since 
this  elopement  business." 

"Who'll  pay  what  sum?" 

"The  ransom,"  she  said,  impatiently.  "You 
don't  suppose  I  fell  for  all  that  patriotic  stuff,  do 
you?" 

I  could  only  stare  at  her  in  dumb  rage. 

"At  first,  of  course,"  she  said,  "I  thought  you 
were  white  slavers.  But  I've  got  it  now.  The 
other  game  is  different.  Oh,  I  may  come  from  a 
small  town,  but  I'm  not  unsophisticated.  You 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  137 

people  didn't  send  my  father  those  black  hand  let 
ters  he's  been  getting  lately,  I  suppose?" 

"Tish!"  I  called  sharply. 

But  Tish  had  stopped  and  was  listening  intent 
ly.  Suddenly  she  said: 

"Run!" 

There  was  a  sort  of  pounding  noise  somewhere 
behind,  and  Aggie  screeched  that  it  was  the 
Knowleses'  bull  loose  on  the  road.  I  thought  it 
quite  likely,  and  as  we  had  once  had  a  very  un 
pleasant  time  with  it,  spending  the  entire  night  in 
the  Knowleses'  pig  pen,  with  the  animal  putting 
his  horns  through  the  chinks  every  now  and  then, 
I  dropped  the  suitcase  and  ran.  Myrtle  ran  too, 
and  we  reached  the  farmhouse  in  safety. 

It  was  then  that  we  realized  that  the  sound  was 
the  pursuing  car,  bumping  along  slowly  on  four 
flat  tires.  Tish  shut  and  bolted  the  door,  and  as 
the  windows  were  closed  with  wooden  frames, 
nailed  on,  we  were  then  in  darkness.  We  could 
hear  the  runabout,  however,  thudding  slowly  up 
the  drive,  and  the  voices  of  Mr.  Culver  and  the 
policeman  as  they  tried  the  door  and  the  window 
shutters. 

Tish  stood  just  inside  the  door,  and  Myrtle  was 
just  beside  me.  Aggie  had  collapsed  on  a  hall 
chair.  I  have,  I  think,  neglected  to  say  that  the 
farmhouse  was  furnished.  Tish's  mother  used 


138  MORE  TISH 


to  go  out  there  every  summer,  and  she  was  a  great 
woman  for  being  comfortable. 

At  last  Mr.  Culver  came  to  the  front  door  and 
spoke  through  it. 

"Hello,  inside  there!"  he  called,  in  a  furious 
voice.  As  no  one  replied,  he  then  banged  at  the 
door,  and  from  the  sound  I  fancy  the  policeman 
was  hammering  also,  with  his  mace. 

"Open,  in  the  name  of  the  law !"  bellowed  the 
policeman. 

"Stop  that  racket,"  Tish  replied  sternly.  "Or 
I  shall  fire." 

Of  course  she  had  no  weapon,  but  they  did  not 
know  this.  We  could  hear  Mr.  Culver  telling  the 
policeman  to  keep  back,  as  he  knew  us,  and  we 
had  any  other  set  of  desperadoes  he  had  ever 
heard  of  beaten  for  recklessness  with  a  gun. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  during  which  I 
heard  Aggie's  knitting  needles  going  furiously. 
She  learned  to  knit  by  touch  once  when  she  had 
iritis  and  was  obliged  to  finish  a  slumber  robe  in 
time  for  Tish's  birthday.  So  the  darkness  did  not 
trouble  her,  and  I  knew  she  was  knitting  to  com 
pose  herself. 

Tish  then  stood  inside  the  door,  and  delivered 
through  it  one  of  the  most  inspiring  patriotic 
speeches  I  have  ever  heard.  She  spoke  of  our 
long  tolerance,  while  the  world  waited.  Then  of 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  139 

the  decision,  and  the  call  to  arms.  She  said  that 
the  sons  of  the  Nation  were  rising  that  day  in 
their  might. 

"But,"  she  finished,  "there  are  some  among  us 
who  would  shirk,  would  avoid  the  high  and  lofty 
duty.  There  are  some  who  would  profane  the 
name  of  love,  and  hide  behind  it  to  save  their  own 
cowardly  skins.  To  these  ignoble  ones  there  is 
but  one  course  left  open.  Go.  Put  your  name  on 
the  roster  of  your  country  as  a  free  man,  unmar 
ried  and  without  impediments  of  any  sort.  Then 
return  and  these  doors  will  fly  open  before  the 
magic  of  a  blue  card." 

It  was  at  that  time,  we  learned  later,  that  the 
policeman,  who  was  but  a  rough  and  untutored 
type,  decided  that  Tish  was  insane — how  often, 
alas,  is  genius  thus  mistaken! — and  started  off 
for  the  Knowles  farm  to  bring  help.  Mr.  Culver 
made  no  reply  to  Tish's  speech,  and  we  learned 
later  had  gone  away  in  the  midst  of  it.  Later  on 
he  was  reported  by  Aggie,  who  looked  out  from 
an  upper  window,  to  be  sitting  under  the  chestnut 
tree  where  he  had  once  rescued  Tish's  black  alpaca 
skirt,  sulking  and  watching. 

Tish  then  went  up  and  spoke  to  him  from  the 
window. 

"See  here,"  she  said  angrily,  "do  you  think  that 
I  did  not  mean  what  I  said  through  that  door?" 


140  MORE  TISH 


He  had  the  audacity  to  yawn. 

"I  didn't  hear  all  of  it,"  he  said.  "But  judging 
from  what  I  know  of  you,  I  daresay  you  meant  it. 
Would  you  mind  tossing  me  a  tin  cup  or  some 
thing  to  drink  out  of?" 

"You  are  not  going  back  to  town  to  register, 
then?" 

"It's  early,"  he  replied,  coolly.  "If  you  mean 
do  I  intend  to  walk  back,  I  do  not.  I  shall  wait 
for  the  Sheriff  and  the  posse." 

It  was  then  that  Tish  saw  the  policeman  cross 
ing  a  field  toward  the  Knowles  farm  and  she 
tried  to  reason  with  the  young  man.  But  he 
dropped  his  pretence  of  indifference,  and  would 
not  even  listen  to  her. 

"I've  only  one  thing  to  say,"  he  said,  fiercely. 
"You  be  careful  of  that  young  lady.  As  to 
whether  I  register  or  not,  that's  my  business  and 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  case.  When  you  open 
that  door  and  send  her  out,  with  four  good  tires 
to  take  the  place  of  the  ones  you  ruined,  I'll  talk 
to  you,  and  not  before." 

He  then  got  up  and  walked  away,  and  Tish 
came  dowrnstairs  and  lighted  a  candle  with  hands 
that  shook  with  rage.  We  had  heard  the  entire 
conversation,  and  in  the  candlelight  I  could  see 
that  Aggie  was  as  white  as  wax. 

Well,  the  situation  was  really  desperate,  but 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  141 

Tish's  face  forbade  questions.  Aggie  ventured 
to  observe  that  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  un 
lock  the  door  and  release  the  girl,  but  Tish  only 
gave  her  a  ferocious  glance. 

"I  am  doing  my  duty,"  she  said,  firmly.  "I  have 
done  nothing  for  which  the  law  can  punish  me. 
If  a  young  lady  comes  willingly  into  my  car  for  a 
ride,  as  you  did" — she  turned  sharply  to  Myrtle 
— "and  if  a  young  fool  chooses  to  sit  in  my  front 
yard  instead  of  registering  to  serve  his  country, 
it  is  not  my  fault.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  can 
probably  have  him  arrested  for  trespass." 

As  I  have  said,  the  farmhouse  is  still  furnished 
with  Tish's  mother's  things.  She  was  a  Biggs, 
and  all  the  things  the  Biggses  had  not  wanted  for 
sixty  years  were  in  the  house.  So  at  least  we  had 
chairs  to  sit  on,  and  if  we  had  only  had  water, 
for  we  were  all  thirsty  from  excitement  and  dust, 
we  could  have  been  fairly  comfortable,  although 
Myrtle  complained  bitterly  of  thirst. 

"And  I  want  to  wash,"  she  said  fretfully.  "If 
I  could  wash  I'd  change  my  blouse  and  look  like 
something." 

"For  whom?"  Tish  demanded.  "For  that 
slacker  outside?" 

Suddenly  Myrtle  laughed.  She  had  been  in 
tears  for  so  long  that  it  surprised  us.  We  all 


142  MORE  TISH 

stared  at  her,  but  she  seemed  to  get  worse  and 
worse. 

"She's  hysterical,  poor  child,"  Aggie  said,  feel 
ing  for  her  smelling  salts.  "I  don't  know  that  I 
blame  her,  Tish.  No  one  knows  better  than  I  do 
what  it  is  to  expect  to  be  married,  and  then  find 
the  divine  hand  of  Providence  intervening." 

But  Myrtle  suddenly  walked  over  to  Aggie  and, 
stooping,  kissed  her  on  the  top  of  her  right  ear. 

"You  dear  thing!"  she  said.  "I  still  don't  get 
all  the  idea,  but  I  don't  much  care  if  I  don't.  I 
haven't  had  so  much  excitement  since  I  ran  away 
from  boarding  school." 

She  then  straightened  and  looked  at  Tish.  It 
was  clear  that  her  feeling  for  dear  Tish  was  still 
vague,  but  was  rather  more  of  respect  than  of 
love. 

"As  for  the — the  young  man  outside,"  she  said, 
"I  seem  to  gather  that  he  hasn't  registered,  and 
that  I  am  not  to  marry  him  until  he  has.  Very 
well.  I  hadn't  thought  about  it  before,  but  that 
speech  of  yours — suppose  you  tell  him  that  I  won't 
marry  him  until  he  has  a — a  magic  blue  card.  I 
should  like  to  see  his  face." 

But  Tish  is  a  woman  of  delicacy,  and  she  sug 
gested  that  Myrtle  do  it  herself,  from  an  upper 
window.  I  went  up  with  her,  and  we  found  Mr. 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  143 

Culver  again  under  the  tree.  The  conversation 
ran  like  this : 

MYRTLE,  (looking  very  pretty  indeed  but  very 
firm) :  Look  here,  I — I've  decided  not  to  marry 
you. 

MR.  CULVER  (rousing  suddenly  and  staring  up 
at  her)  :  I  beg  your  pardon ! 

MYRTLE  :  I  know  now  that  I  was  making  a  ter 
rible  mistake.  No  matter  how  much  I  care  for 
you,  I  cannot  marry  a  slacker. 

MR.  C.  (furiously  angry  and  glaring  at  her) : 
You  know  better  than  that ! 

MYRTLE:  Not  at  all.  Can  you  deny  that  you 
haven't  registered  yet? 

MR.  C. :  What's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?  I  dare 
say  I'm  losing  my  mind.  It  wouldn't  be  much 
wonder  if  I  have.  When  I  think  of  the  way  I've 
suffered  lately — look  at  me ! 

MYRTLE  (in  a  somewhat  softened  voice)  :  Have 
you  really  suffered? 

MR.  C:  I  ?  Good  Lord,  Myrtle— why,  I 
haven't  slept  for  weeks.  I 

But  here  he  stopped,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
roof  overhead. 

"Watch  out!"  he  yelled.  "Get  back.  Myrtle, 
she'll  fall  on  you." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Tish's  calm  voice  from  over 
head.  There  was  a  rasping  sound,  and  then  a 


144  MORE  TISH 


long  wire  fell  past  the  window.  "Now,"  she 
called  triumphantly,  "let  your  policeman  tele 
phone  for  the  Sheriff  and  a  posse!  That  was  a 
party  wire,  and  that  farmhouse  over  there  is  on 
it.  There  isn't  another  telephone  for  ten  miles." 

Well,  I  looked  around  for  Myrtle,  and  she  was 
on  the  guest  room  bed,  face  down. 

"Oh,"  she  groaned,  "I  wouldn't  have  missed 
it  for  a  trip  to  Europe.  And  his  face!  Miss 
Lizzie,  did  you  see  his  face?"  She  then  got  up 
suddenly  and  put  her  arms  around  me.  "I'm 
simply  madly  happy,  Miss  Lizzie,"  she  said.  "I 
have  to  kiss  somebody,  and  since  he — may  I  kiss 
you?" 

Well,  of  course  I  allowed  her  to,  but  I  was  sur 
prised.  It  was  not  natural,  somehow. 

Myrtle  came  down  soon  after  and  said  that  Mr. 
Culver  was  bringing  some  water  from  the  well, 
and  would  he  be  allowed  to  come  in  with  it  ?  But 
Tish  was  firm  on  this  point.  She  gave  her  con 
sent,  however,  to  his  leaving  the  pail  on  the  porch 
and  then  retiring  to  the  chestnut  tree.  He  did  so, 
whistling  to  signify  that  he  was  at  a  safe  distance, 
and  I  then  carried  it  in. 

"I  say,"  he  called  to  me  when  he  saw  me,  "this 
situation  is  getting  on  my  nerves.  I  carried  off 
that  policeman,  for  one  thing.  He  was  on  duty." 

"You  needn't  stay  here." 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  145 

"I  daresay  not,"  he  replied  rather  bitterly. 
''But  what  I  want  to  ask  is  this:  Won't  it  be 
deucedly  unpleasant  for  you  three,  when  I  report 
that  you  deliberately  put  my  car  out  of  commis 
sion  so  I  could  not  get  back  by  nine  o'clock  to 
register?  Of  course,"  he  went  on,  "a  box  of 
tacks  may  have  spilled  itself  on  the  road,  but 
I  never  heard  of  a  barbed  wire  fence  trying  to 
crawl  across  a  road  and  getting  run  over,  like  a 
snake." 

I  reported  this  to  Tish,  and  I  saw  that  she  was 
uneasy,  although  she  merely  remarked  that  he 
still  had  two  legs,  and  that  she  had  not  asked 
him  to  follow  us.  All  she  had  set  out  to  do  was 
to  see  that  he  didn't  get  married  before  he  regis 
tered,  and  she  was  doing  that  to  the  best  of  her 
ability.  The  rest  was  his  affair. 

It  was  six  o'clock  by  that  time,  and  Tish  had 
had  nothing  to  eat  since  five  in  the  morning,  and 
none  of  us  had  had  any  luncheon.  Although  a 
woman  who  thinks  little  or  nothing  of  food,  I 
found  her,  shortly  afterwards,  in  the  pantry,  look 
ing  into  jars.  There  was  nothing,  however,  ex 
cept  some  salt,  a  little  baking  powder  and  a  pack 
age  of  dried  sage.  But  Aggie,  going  to  an  attic 
window  to  look  for  the  policeman,  discovered 
about  a  quart  of  flour  in  a  barrel  up  there,  and 
scraping  it  out,  brought  it  down. 


146  MORE  TISH 


"I  might  bake  some  biscuits,  Tish,"  she  sug 
gested.  "I  feel  that  I'll  have  to  have  some  nour 
ishment.  I'm  so  weak  that  my  knees  shake." 

"Myrtle,"  Tish  said  abruptly,  with  that  quick 
decision  so  characteristic  of  her,  "you  might  tell 
that  worthless  young  man  of  yours  to  look  in  the 
granary.  Sometimes  the  Knowleses'  hens  come 
over  here,  and  I  daresay  they've  eaten  enough  off 
the  place  to  pay  for  the  eggs." 

But  Myrtle,  after  a  conference  from  the  win 
dow,  reported  that  Mr.  Culver  had  said  he  would 
get  the  eggs,  if  there  were  any,  on  condition  that 
he  get  his  pro  rata  share  of  them. 

"If  there  are  ten  eggs,"  she  said,  "he  wants 
two.  And  if  there  is  an  odd  number  he  claims  the 
odd  one." 

This  irritated  Tish,  but  at  last  she  grudgingly 
consented.  In  a  short  time,  therefore,  Mr.  Cul 
ver  knocked  at  the  kitchen  door. 

"I  am  leaving,"  he  said,  "eleven  eggs,  eight  of 
undoubted  respectability,  two  questionable,  and 
one  that  I  should  advise  opening  into  a  saucer 
first.  Also  some  corn  meal  from  the  granary. 
And  if  you  will  set  out  a  pail  and  come  after  me 
if  I  am  wounded,  I  shall  go  after  a  cow  that  I  see 
in  yon  sylvan  vale." 

His  voice  was  strangely  cheerful,  but,  indeed, 
the  prospect  of  food  had  cheered  us  all,  although 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  147 

I  could  see  that  Tish  was  growing  more  and  more 
anxious,  as  time  went  on  and  no  policeman  ap 
peared  in  the  Knowleses'  machine.  However,  we 
worked  busily.  Myrtle,  building  a  fire  and  set 
ting  the  table  with  the  Biggses'  dishes,,  and  Aggie 
making  biscuits,  without  shortening,  while  Tish 
stirred  the  corn  meal  mush. 

"Many  a  soldier  in  the  trenches,"  she  said, 
"would  be  grateful  for  such  a  frugal  meal.  When 
one  reflects  that  the  total  cost  of  mush  and  milk 
is  but  a  trifle " 

Here,  however,  we  were  interrupted  by  Mr. 
Culver  outside.  He  spoke  in  gasps  and  we  heard 
the  pail  clatter  to  the  porch  floor. 

"I  regretfully  report "  he  said,  through  the 

keyhole.  "No  milk.  Wrong  sex.  Sorry." 

Ten  of  the  eggs  proving  good,  we  placed  two 
of  them  on  a  plate  with  three  biscuits  and  a  bowl 
of  mush,  and  Tish  carried  it  out,  placing  it  on 
the  floor  of  the  porch,  much  as  she  would  have 
set  it  out  for  the  dog. 

"Here,"  she  called.  "And  when  you  have  fin 
ished  you  might  go  after  that  accomplice  of  yours. 
He's  probably  asleep  somewhere." 

"Dear  lady,"  said  Mr.  Culver,  "I  would,  but  I 
dare  not.  A  fiery  creature,  breathing  fury  from 
its  nostrils,  is  abroad  and " 

But  Tish  came  in  and  slammed  the  door. 


148 MORE  TISH 

It  was  after  supper  that  we  missed  Tish.  She 
was  nowhere  in  the  house,  and  the  kitchen  door, 
which  had  been  bolted,  was  unlocked.  Aggie 
wrung  her  hands,  but  Myrtle  was  quite  calm. 

"I  shouldn't  worry  about  her,"  she  said.  "She's 
about  as  well  able  to  cake  care  of  herself  as  any 
woman  I  ever  saw/' 

It  was  now  quite  dark,  and  our  fears  increased. 
But  soon  afterwards  Tish  came  in.  She  went  to 
the  stove  and  pouring  out  a  cup  of  hot  water, 
drank  it  in  silence.  Then  she  said : 

"I've  been  to  the  Knowleses'.  The  dratted  idiots 
are  all  away,  probably  to  the  schoolhouse,  regis 
tering.  The  car's  gone,  and  the  house  is  closed." 

"And  the  policeman?"  I  asked. 

"I  didn't  see  him,"  said  Tish.  But  she  did  not 
look  at  me.  She  fell  to  pacing  up  and  down  the 
kitchen,  deep  in  thought. 

"What  time  is  it,  Lizzie?"  she  asked. 

"Almost  eight." 

Here  Tish  gave  what  in  another  woman  would 
have  been  a  groan. 

"It's  raining,"  she  observed,  and  fell  to  pacing 
again.  At  last  she  told  me  to  follow  her  outside, 
and  I  went,  feeling  that  she  had  at  last  made  a 
decision.  Her  attitude  throughout  her  period  of 
cogitation  had  been  not  unlike  that  of  Napoleon 
before  Waterloo.  There  were  the  same  bent  head 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  149 

and  clasped  hands,  the  same  melancholy  mixed 
with  determination. 

Mr.  Culver  was  sitting  under  his  tree,  with  his 
coat  collar  turned  up  around  his  neck.  Tish 
stopped  and  surveyed  him  with  gentle  dignity. 

"You  may  enter  the  house,"  she  said.  "The 
country  will  gain  nothing  by  your  having  pneu 
monia,  although  personally  I  am  indifferent. 
And,  after  thinking  over  your  case,  I  have  come 
to  this  decision."  She  paused,  as  for  oratorical 
effect.  "I  shall  deliver  you  to  your  registration 
precinct  by  nine  o'clock,"  she  said  impressively, 
"and  immediately  after  that,  I  shall  see  that  you 
two  are  married.  I  am  not  young,"  she  went  on, 
"and  perhaps  I  do  not  think  enough  of  senti 
ment.  But  it  shall  never  be  said  of  me  that  I 
parted  two  loving  hearts,  one  of  which  may,  be 
fore  the  snow  flies,  be  still  and  pulseless  in  a 
foreign  grave." 

She  then,  still  with  that  new  air  of  melancholy 
majesty,  led  me  to  the  barn,  leaving  him  staring. 

It  was  there,  by  means  of  a  key  hanging  round 
her  neck,  that  Letitia  Carberry,  great  hearted 
woman  and  patriot  that  she  is,  bared  her  inner 
heart  to  me.  In  the  barn  was  a  large  and  hand 
some  ambulance,  with  large  red  crosses  on  side 
and  top,  which  she  had  offered  to  the  government 
if  she  might  drive  it  herself.  But  the  govern- 


150  MORE  TISH 

ment  which  she  was  even  then  so  heroically  serv 
ing  had  refused  her  permission,  and  Tish  had 
buried  her  disappointment  in  the  bucolic  solitude 
of  her  farm. 

Such,  in  brief,  was  Tish's  tragic  secret. 

"I  shall  take  it  in  to  the  city  tonight,  Lizzie," 
she  said  heavily.  "And  tomorrow  I  shall  present 
it  to  the  Red  Cross.  Some  other  hand  than  mine 
will  steer  it  through  shot  and  shell,  and  ultimate 
ly  into  Berlin.  It  has  everything.  There's  a 
soup  compartment  and — well,"  she  finished,  "it 
is  doing  its  work  even  tonight.  Get  in." 

We  found  Aggie  on  the  porch,  having  with  her 
usual  delicacy  of  feeling  left  the  lovers  alone  in 
side.  When  she  saw  the  Ambulance,  however, 
she  fell  to  sneezing  violently,  crying  out  between 
paroxysms  that  if  Tish  was  going  to  the  war, 
she  was  also.  But  Tish  hushed  her  sternly. 

There  was  a  good  engine  in  the  Ambulance. 
Tish  said  she  had  ordered  a  fast  one,  because  it 
was  often  necessary  to  run  between  shells,  as  it 
were.  She  then  shoved  on  the  gas  as  far  as 
it  would  go,  and  we  were  off.  After  a  time,  find 
ing  it  impossible  to  sit  on  the  folding  seats  in 
side,  we  all  sat  on  the  floor,  and  I  believe  Mr.  Cul 
ver  held  Myrtle's  hand  all  of  the  way. 

He  said  little,  beyond  observing  once  that  he 
felt  a  trifle  queer  about  leaving  the  policeman, 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  151 

who  had  been  on  duty  when  he  picked  him  up  at 
the  Court  House,  and  who  was  now  lost  some 
forty-five  miles  from  home,  in  a  strange  land. 

I  am  glad,  in  this  public  manner,  to  correct 
the  report  that  on  the  evening  of  June  fifth  a  Ger 
man  Zeppelin  made  a  raid  over  our  country,  and 
that  the  wounded  were  hurried  to  the  city  in  a 
Red  Cross  Ambulance,  traveling  at  break-neck 
speed. 

At  nine  o'clock  Mr.  Culver  was  registered  at 
Engine  House  number  eleven,  fourteenth  ward, 
third  precinct. 

At  nine-fifteen  Mr.  Culver  and  Myrtle  were 
married  at  the  same  address  by  Mr.  Ostermaier, 
standing  in  front  of  the  fire  truck. 

But  this  should  be  related  in  detail.  So  bitter 
was  Charlie  Sands,  so  uneasy  about  the  license, 
and  so  on,  that  I  feel  in  fairness  to  Tish  that  I 
should  relate  exactly  what  happened. 

At  ten  o'clock  that  night  everything  was  over, 
and  we  had  gathered  in  Tish's  apartment  while 
Hannah  broiled  a  steak,  for  Tish  felt  that  the  oc 
casion  permitted  a  certain  extravagance,  when 
Charlie  Sands  came  in.  Behind  him  was  a  dis 
hevelled  young  man,  with  wild  eyes  and  a  suitcase. 
Charlie  Sands  stood  and  glared  at  us. 

"Well!"  he  said.  And  then:  "Where's  the 
young  lady?" 


"What  young  lady?"  asked  Tish,  coldly. 

The  young  man  stepped  forward,  with  his  fists 
clenched. 

"Mine !"  he  bellowed.  "Mine !  Don't  deny  it. 
I  recognize  you.  I  saw  you — the  lot  of  you.  I 
saw  you  drag  her  into  a  car  and  kidnap  her.  I 
saw  that  ass  Culver  and  a  policeman  chasing  you 
in  another  car.  Oh,  I  know  you,  all  right.  Didn't 
I  pay  twenty-two  dollars  for  a  taxicab  that  got 
three  punctures  all  at  once  thirty  miles  from  the 
city?  Now  where  is  she?" 

"Just  a  moment,"  said  Tish's  nephew,  holding 
him  back  by  an  arm  across  his  chest.  "Just  re 
member  that  whatever  my  aunt  has  done  was 
done  with  the  best  intentions." 

"D her  intentions !    I  want  Myrtle." 

The  dreadful  truth  must  have  come  to  Tish 
at  that  moment,  as  it  did  to  the  rest  of  us.  I 
know  that  she  turned  pale.  But  she  rose  and 
pointed  magnificently  to  the  door. 

"Leave  my  apartment,"  she  said  majestically. 
And  to  Charlie  Sands :  "Take  that  madman  away 
and  lock  him  up.  Then,  if  you  have  anything  to 
say  to  me,  come  back  alone." 

"Not  a  step/'  said  the  young  man.  "Where's 
my  marriage  license  ?  Where's " 

B-at  Charlie  Sands  pushed  him  out  into  the  hall- 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  153 

way  and  closed  the  door  on  him.  Then,  with 
folded  arms  he  surveyed  us. 

"That's  right!"  he  said.  "Knot!  I  believe 
most  pirates  knit  on  off  days.  Now,  Aunt  Letitia, 
I  want  the  whole  story." 

"Story?" 

"About  the  license.  He  says  the  girl  had  the 
license." 

"What  license?" 

"Don't  evade !"  he  said  sternly.  "Where  were 
you  this  afternoon?" 

"If  you  want  the  truth,"  said  Tish,  "although 
it's  none  of  your  business,  Charlie  Sands,  and 
you  can  unfold  your  arms,  because  the  pose  has 
no  effect  on  me, — I  was  out  rounding  up  a  young 
man  who  had  not  registered.  I  got  him  and 
brought  him  in  to  my  precinct  at  five  minutes  to 
nine." 

"And  that's  the  truth?" 

"Go  and  ask  Mr.  Ostermaier,"  said  Tish,  in  a 
bored  tone. 

"But  this  boy  outside " 

"Look  here,"  Tish  said  suddenly,  "go  and  ask 
that  noisy  young  idiot  for  his  blue  card.  It's  my 
belief  he  hasn't  registered  and  more  than  likely 
he's  been  making  all  this  fuss  so  he'll  have  an 
excuse  if  he's  found  out.  How  do  we  know,"  she 


154  MORE  TISH 


went  on,  gaining  force  with  each  word,  "that 
there  is  a  Myrtle  ?" 

"By  George!"  said  Charlie  Sands,  and  disap 
peared. 

It  was  then,  for  the  first  time  in  her  valiant 
life,  that  I  saw  our  Tish  weaken. 

"Lizzie!"  she  groaned,  leaning  back  in  her 
chair.  "That  Culver  was  married  with  another 
man's  name  on  the  license.  What's  more,  I  mar 
ried  him  to  that  flibbertigibbet  who  had  just  jilted 
him.  What  have  I  done?  Oh,  wrhat  have  I 
done?" 

"They  both  seemed  happy,  Tish,"  I  tried  to 
soothe  her.  But  she  refused  all  consolation,  and 
merely  called  Hannah  and  asked  for  some  black 
berry  cordial.  She  drank  fully  half  a  tumbler 
full  and  she  recovered  her  poise  by  the  time 
Charlie  Sands  stuck  his  head  through  the  door 
again. 

"You're  right,  most  shrewd  of  aunts,"  he  said. 
"He's  been  playing  me  for  a  sucker  all  right.  Not 
a  blue  card  on  him !  And  he  belongs  out  of  town, 
so  it's  too  late." 

"It's  a  jail  matter,"  said  Tish,  knitting  calmly, 
although  we  afterwards  discovered  that  she  had 
put  a  heel  on  the  wristlet  she  was  making.  "You'd 
better  get  his  name,  and  I'll  notify  the  sheriff  of 
his  county  in  the  morning." 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  155 

Charlie  Sands  came  over  to  her  and  stood  look 
ing  down  at  her. 

"Aunt  Tish,"  he  said.  "I  believe  you.  I  be 
lieve  you  firmly.  I  shall  not  even  ask  about  a 
young  man  named  Culver,  who  went  to  get  our 
marriage  license  list  at  the  Court  House  this 
afternoon  and  has  not  been  seen  since.  But  I 
want  to  bring  a  small  matter  to  your  attention. 
That  policeman  had  not  registered." 

He  then  turned  and  went  toward  the  door. 

"But  I  did,  dear  Aunt  Letitia,"  he  said  and 
was  gone. 

Tish  came  to  see  me  the  next  afternoon,  bring 
ing  the  paper,  which  contained  a  glowing  account 
of  her  gift  to  the  local  Red  Cross  of  a  fine  ambu 
lance.  An  editorial  comment  spoke  of  her  public 
spirit,  which  for  so  many  years  had  made  her  a 
conspicuous  figure  in  all  civic  work. 

"The  city,"  it  finished,  "can  do  with  many  like 
our  Miss  Tish'  Carberry." 

But  Tish  showed  no  exultation.  She  sat  in  a 
rocking  chair  and  rocked  slowly. 

"Read  the  next  editorial,  Lizzie,"  she  said,  in 
a  low  voice. 

I  have  it  before  me  now,  cut  out  rather  rag 
gedly,  for  I  confess  I  was  far  from  calm  when  I 
did  it. 


156  MORE  TISH 


"A  SHAMEFUL  INCIDENT. 

"Perhaps  nothing  has  so  exposed  this  city  to 
criticism  as  the  conduct  of  Officer  Flinn,  as  shown 
in  a  news  item  in  our  columns  exclusively.  Offi 
cer  Flinn  has  been  five  years  on  the  police  force  of 
this  city.  He  has  until  now  borne  an  excellent 
record.  But  he  did  not  register  yesterday,  and 
on  limping  into  the  Central  Station  this  morn 
ing  told  a  story  manifestly  intended  to  indicate 
temporary  insanity  and  thus  still  further  disquali 
fy  him  for  the  service  of  his  country.  His  state 
ment  of  seeing  three  elderly  women  kidnap  a 
young  girl  from  in  front  of  the  Court  House,  his 
further  statement  of  following  the  kidnappers  far 
into  the  country,  with  a  young  man  he  cannot  now 
produce,  is  sufficiently  outrageous. 

"But,  not  satisfied  with  this,  the  inventive  ex- 
officer  went  further  and  added  a  night  in  a  pig 
pen,  constantly  threatened  by  a  savage  bull,  and  a 
journey  of  forty-five  miles  on  foot  when,  early 
this  morning,  the  animal  retired  for  a  belated 
sleep ! 

"Representatives  of  this  paper,  investigating 
this  curious  situation,  found  the  farmhouse 
which  Officer  Flinn  described  as  being  the  den  of 
the  kidnappers  and  which  he  stated  he  had  left  in 
a  state  of  siege,  the  bandits  and  their  victim  with- 


TISH  DOES  HER  BIT  157 

in  and  the  young  man  who  had  accompanied  the 
officer,  without.  Needless  to  say,  nothing  bore 
out  his  story.  A  young  married  couple,  named 
Culver,  who  are  spending  their  honeymoon  there, 
knew  nothing  of  the  circumstances,  although  stat 
ing  that  they  believed  that  a  neighboring  family 
possessed  a  belligerent  bull. 

"It  is  a  regrettable  fact  that  the  only  scandal 
which  marred  a  fine  and  patriotic  outburst  of 
national  feeling  yesterday  should  have  involved 
the  city  organization.  Is  it  not  time  that  loyal 
citizens  demand  an  investigation  into " 

"Never  mind  the  rest,  Lizzie,"  Tish  said  wear 
ily.  "I  suppose  I'll  have  to  get  him  something  to 
do,  but  I  don't  know  what,  unless  I  employ  him  to 
follow  me  around  and  arrest  me  when  I  act  like 
a  dratted  fool." 

She  sighed,  and  rocked  slowly. 

"Another  thing,  Lizzie,"  she  said.  "I  don't 
know  but  what  Aggie  was  right  about  Charlie 
Sands.  I've  been  thinking  it  over,  and  I  guess  it 
was  evening,  for  I  remember  seeing  a  new  moon 
just  before  he  came,  and  wishing  he  would  be  a 
girl.  But  I  guess  I  was  too  late.  If  I'd  known 
about  this  war,  I'd  have  wished  it  sooner.  I'm  a 
broken  woman,  Lizzie,"  she  finished. 


158  MORE  TISH 

She  put  on  her  hat  wrong  side  before,  but  I 
had  not  the  heart  to  tell  her,  and  went  away. 

However,  late  that  evening  she  called  me  up, 
and  her  voice  was  not  the  voice  of  a  broken 
creature. 

"I  thought  you  might  like  to  come  over,  Liz 
zie,"  she  said.  "That  woman  below  has  told  the 
janitor  she  is  going  to  pour  ammonia  water  down 
on  my  tomato  plants  tonight,  and  I  am  making 
a  few  small  preparations." 


SALVAGE 


SALVAGE 


AFTER  Charlie  Sands  had  gone  to  a  training- 
camp  in  Ohio  there  was  a  great  change  in 
Tish.  She  seemed  for  the  first  time  to  regret  that 
she  was  a  woman,  and  there  were  times  when  that 
wonderful  poise  and  dignity  that  had  always  dis 
tinguished  her,  even  under  the  most  trying  cir 
cumstances,  almost  deserted  her.  She  wrote,  I  re 
member,  a  number  of  letters  to  the  President,  of 
fering  to  go  into  the  Secret  Service,  and  sending 
a  photograph  of  the  bandits  she  had  caught  in 
Glacier  Park.  But  she  only  received  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Tumulty  in  reply,  commencing  "May  I  not 
thank  you,"  but  saying  that  the  Intelligence  De 
partment  had  recently  been  increased  by  practi 
cally  the  entire  population  of  the  country,  and 
suggesting  that  she  could  best  use  her  energies 
for  the  national  welfare  by  working  for  the  re 
turn  of  the  Democratic  Party  in  1920. 

However,  as  Tish  is  a  Republican  she  was  not 
interested  in  this,  and  for  a  time  she  worked 
valiantly  for  the  Red  Cross  and  spent  her  eve 
nings  learning  the  national  anthem.  But  she  re- 

161 


162  MORE  TISH 


cited  it,  since,  as  the  well-known  writer,  Mr.  Irvin 
Cobb,  has  observed,  it  can  only  be  properly  sung 
by  a  boy  whose  voice  is  changing.  It  was  evi 
dent,  however,  that  she  was  increasingly  restive, 
and  as  I  look  back  I  wonder  that  we  did  not 
realize  that  there  was  danger  in  her  very  repres 
sion. 

As  Aggie  has  said,  Tish  is  volcanic  in  her 
temperament;  she  remains  inactive  for  certain 
preparatory  periods,  but  when  she  overflows  she 
does  so  thoroughly. 

The  most  ominous  sign  was  when,  in  July  of 
1917,  she  stopped  knitting  and  took  up  French. 

Only  the  other  day,  while  house  cleaning,  she 
came  across  the  aeroplane  photograph  of  the 
French  village  of  V ,  where  our  extraordi 
nary  experience  befell  us,  and  she  turned  on  us 
both  with  that  satiric  yet  kindly  gaze  which  we 
both  knew  so  well. 

"If  you  two  idiots  had  had  your  way,"  she  ob 
served,  "I  should  have  been  knitting  so  many 
socks  for  Charlie  Sands  that  he'd  have  had  to  be 
a  centipede  to  wear  'em  all,  instead  of " 

"Tish,"  Aggie  said  in  a  shivering  voice,  "I 
wish  you  wouldn't  talk  about  it.  I  can't  bear  it, 
that's  all.  It  sets  me  shivering." 

Tish  eyed  her  coldly.  "The  body  is  entirely 
controlled  by  the  mind,  Aggie,"  she  reminded  her. 


SALVAGE  163 

''And  when  I  remember  how  nearly  your  lack 
of  control  cost  us  our  lives,  when  you  insisted  on 
sneezing " 

"Insisted!  If  you  had  been  in  a  shell  hole  full 
of  water  up  to  your  neck,  Tish  Carberry " 

"The  difference  between  you  and  me,  Aggie," 
Tish  replied  calmly,  "is  that  I  should  not  have 
been  in  a  shell  hole  full  of  water  up  to  my  neck." 
The  war  was  over  then,  of  course,  but  there  was 
still  a  disturbed  condition  in  certain  countries, 
and  Tish's  eyes  grew  reflective. 

"I  see  they  are  thinking  of  sending  a  real  army 
into  Russia,"  she  said  thoughtfully.  "I  suppose 
that  Russian  laundress  of  the  Ostermaiers'  could 
teach  a  body  to  talk  enough  to  get  about  with." 

Shortly  after  that  Aggie  disappeared,  and  I 
found  her  later  on  in  Tish's  bathroom  crying  into 
a  Turkish  towel. 

"I  won't  go,  Lizzie,"  she  said,  "and  that's  flat ! 
I've  done  my  share,  and  if  Tish  Carberry  thinks 
I  am  going  to  go  through  the  rest  of  my  life 
falling  into  shell  holes  and  being  potted  at  by  all 
sort  of  strange  men  she  can  just  think  again.  Be 
sides  that,  I  have  been  true  to  the  memory  of  one 
man  for  a  good  many  years,  and  I  simply  refuse 
to  be  kissed  by  any  more  of  those  immoral  for 
eigners." 

Aggie  had  in  her  youth  been  betrothed  to  a 


164  MORE  TISH 

gentleman  in  the  roofing  business,  who  had  met 
with  an  unfortunate  accident,  owing  to  having 
slipped  on  a  tin  gutter,  without  overshoes,  one 
rainy  day ;  and  it  is  quite  true  that  we  had  all  been 
kissed  by  two  French  generals  and  a  man  in  civil 
ian  clothes  who  had  not  even  been  introduced  to 
us.  But  up  to  that  time  we  had  kept  the  oscula- 
tory  incident  a  profound  secret. 

"Aggie,"  I  said  with  sudden  suspicion,  "you 
haven't  told  Mrs.  Ostermaier  about  that  affair, 
have  you?" 

Aggie  put  down  the  towel  and  looked  at  me  de 
fiantly. 

"I  have,  Lizzie,"  she  said.  "Not  all  of  it,  but 
some.  She  said  she  had  gone  to  the  moving  pic 
tures  with  the  youngest  girl,  but  that  she  had  been 
obliged  to  take  her  away  before  it  was  over, 
owing  to  a  picture  from  France  of  Tish's  being 
kissed  by  a  French  general.  She  said  that  as  soon 
as  he  had  kissed  her  on  one  cheek  she  turned  the 
other,  and  that  she  thinks  the  effect  on  Dolores 
was  extremely  bad." 

It  was  a  great  shock  to  us  all  to  learn  that  the 

incident  of  the  town  of  V had  thus  been 

made  public,  and  that  there  was  a  moving  picture 
of  our  being  decorated,  et  cetera,  going  about  the 
country.  It  is,  I  believe,  quite  usual  to  kiss  the 
persons  receiving  the  Croix  de  Guerre,  even  when 


SALVAGE  165 

of  the  masculine  sex,  and  I  know  positively  that 
Tish  never  saw  that  French  general  again. 

However,  in  view  of  the  unfortunate  publicity  I 
have  decided  to  make  this  record  of  the  actual  in 
cident  of  the  French  town  of  V .  For  the 

story  has  got  into  the  papers,  and  only  yesterday 
Tish  discovered  that  the  pleasant  young  man  who 
had  been  trying  to  sell  her  a  washing  machine 
was  really  a  newspaper  reporter  in  disguise. 

Certain  things  are  not  true.  We  did  not  see  or 
have  any  conversation  with  the  former  Emperor 
of  the  Germans;  nor  were  any  of  us  wounded, 
though  Aggie  got  a  piece  of  plaster  in  her  right 
eye  when  a  shell  hit  the  church  roof,  and  I  was 
badly  scratched  by  barbed  wire.  It  is  not  true, 
either,  that  Aggie  had  her  teeth  knocked  out  by 
a  German  sentry.  She  unfortunately  fell  in  the 
darkness  and  lost  her  upper  set,  and  it  was  im 
possible  to  light  a  match  in  order  to  search  for 
them. 

It  was,  as  I  have  said,  in  July  of  the  first  year 
of  the  war  that  both  Aggie  and  I  noticed  the 
change  in  Tish.  She  grew  moody  and  abstracted, 
and  on  two  Sundays  in  succession  she  turned  over 
her  Sunday-school  class  to  me  and  went  for  long 
walks  into  the  country.  Also,  going  to  her  apart 
ment  for  Sunday  dinner  on,  I  believe,  the  second 
Sunday  of  the  month  we  were  startled  to  see  the 


166  MORE  TISH 


Andersons,  very  nice  people  who  occupy  the  lower 
floor  of  the  building,  running  out  wildly  into  the 
street.  They  said  that  the  janitor  had  been  quar 
reling  with  some  one  in  the  furnace  cellar,  and 
that  from  high  words,  which  they  could  plainly 
hear,  they  had  got  to  shooting,  and  a  bullet  had 
come  up  through  the  floor  and  hit  the  phono 
graph. 

I  had  a  strange  feeling  at  once,  and  I  caught 
Aggie's  agonized  eyes  on  me.  We  remained  for 
some  time  in  the  street,  and  then,  everything 
seeming  to  be  quiet,  we  ventured  in,  with  two 
policemen  leading  the  way,  and  the  Anderson 
baby  left  outside  in  its  perambulator  for  fear  of 
accident.  All  was  quiet,  however,  and  we  made 
our  way  upstairs  to  Tish's  apartment.  She  was 
waiting  for  us,  and  reading  the  Presbyterian 
Banner,  but  I  thought  she  was  almost  too  calm 
when  we  told  her  of  the  Andersons'  terrible  ex 
perience. 

"It's  a  good  riddance,"  she  said,  referring  to 
the  phonograph.  "Besides,  what  right  have  peo 
ple  over  here  to  fuss  about  one  bullet?  Think 
of  our  boys  in  the  trenches." 

After  a  time  she  looked  up  suddenly  and  said: 
"It  didn't  go  anywhere  near  the  baby,  I  sup 
pose?" 

We  said  it  had  not,  and  she  then  observed  that 


SALVAGE  167 

the  building  was  a  mere  shell,  and  that  people 
with  small  children  should  raise  them  in  the  coun 
try  anyhow. 

It  was  during  dinner — Tish  had  been  reading 
Horace  Fletcher  for  some  time,  and  meals  lasted 
almost  from  one  to  the  next — that  Hannah  came 
in  and  said  the  janitor  wanted  to  see  Tish.  She 
went  out  and  came  back  somewhat  later,  looking 
as  irritated  as  our  dear  Tish  ever  looks,  and  got 
her  pocketbook  from  behind  the  china  closet  and 
went  out  again. 

"I  expected  as  much,"  Hannah  said.  Hannah 
is  Tish's  maid.  "She's  paying  blackmail.  Like  as 
not  that  janitor  will  collect  a  hundred  dollars  from 
her,  and  that  phonograph  never  cost  more  than 
thirty-five.  They're  paying  for  it  on  the  install 
ment  plan,  and  the  man  only  gets  a  dollar  a 
week." 

"Hannah,"  I  said  sharply,  "if  you  mean  to  in 
sinuate " 

"Me  ?"  Hannah  replied  in  a  hurt  tone.  "I  don't 
insinuate  anything.  If  I  was  called  tomorrow 
before  a  judge  and  jury  I'd  say  that  for  all  I 
know  Miss  Tish  was  reading  the  Banner  all 
morning.  But  I'd  pray  they  wouldn't  take  a  trip 
here  and  look  in  the  upper  right-hand  sideboard 
drawer." 

She  then  went  out  and  slammed  the  door. 


168  MORE  TISH 


Aggie  and  I  make  it  a  point  of  honor  never  to 
pry  into  Tish's  secrets,  so  we  did  not,  of  course, 
look  into  the  drawer.  However,  a  moment  later  I 
happened  to  upset  my  glass  of  water  and  natural 
ly  went  to  the  sideboard  drawer  in  question  for  a 
fresh  napkin.  And  Tish's  revolver  was  lying 
underneath  her  best  monogramed  tray  cover. 

"It's  there,  Aggie,"  I  said.  "Her  revolver. 
She's  practicing  again;  and  you  know  what  that 
means — war." 

Aggie  gave  a  low  moan. 

"I  wish  we'd  let  her  get  that  aeroplane.  She 
might  have  been  satisfied,  Lizzie,"  she  said  in  a 
shaken  voice. 

"She  might  have  been  dead  too,"  I  replied 
witheringly. 

And  then  Tish  came  back.  She  said  nothing 
about  the  Andersons ;  but  later  on  when  the  baby 
started  to  cry  she  observed  rather  bitterly  that 
she  didn't  see  why  people  had  to  have  a  phono 
graph  when  they  had  that,  and  that  personally  she 
felt  that  whoever  destroyed  that  phonograph 

should  have  a  vote  of  thanks  instead  of She 

did  not  complete  the  sentence. 

It  was  soon  after  that  that  we  went  to  visit 
Charlie  Sands,  Tish's  nephew,  at  the  camp  where 
he  was  learning  to  be  an  officer.  We  called  to  see 
the  colonel  in  command  first,  and  Aggie  gave  him 


SALVAGE  169 


two  extra  blankets  for  Charlie  Sands'  bed  and  a 
pair  of  knitted  bedroom  slippers.  He  was  very 
nice  to  us  and  promised  to  see  personally  that  they 
went  to  the  proper  bed. 

"I'm  always  delighted  to  attend  to  these  little 
things,"  he  said.  "Fine  to  feel  that  our  boys  are 
comfortable.  You  haven't  by  any  chance  brought 
an  eiderdown  pillow?" 

He  seemed  very  regretful  when  he  found  we 
had  not  thought  of  one. 

"That's  too  bad,"  he  said.  "I've  discovered 
that  there  is  nothing  so  comforting  as  a  down 
pillow  after  a  day  of  strenuous  labor." 

It  was  rather  disappointing  to  find  that  the 
duties  of  his  position  kept  him  closely  confined 
to  the  office,  and  that  therefore  he  had  not  yet 
had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Tish's  nephew,  but 
he  said  he  had  no  doubt  they  would  meet  before 
long. 

"They're  all  brought  in  here  sooner  or  later, 
for  one  thing  or  another,"  he  said  pleasantly. 

As  Tish  observed  going  out,  it  was  pleasant  to 
to  think  of  Charlie  Sands'  being  in  such  good 
hands. 

It  was,  however,  rather  a  shock  to  find  him, 
when  we  did  find  him,  lying  on  his  stomach  in  a 
mud  puddle  with  a  rifle  in  front  of  him.  We  did 
not  recognize  him  at  once,  as  a  lot  of  men  were 


170  MORE  TISH 


yelling,  and  indeed  just  at  first  he  did  not  seem 
particularly  glad  to  see  us. 

"Suffering  cats !"  he  shouted.  "Don't  you  see 
we're  shooting  ?  You'll  be  killed.  Get  behind  the 
line!" 

"I  guess  it  won't  defeat  the  Allies  if  you  stop 
shooting  for  two  minutes,"  Tish  observed  with 
her  splendid  poise.  "But  if  you  will  take  charge 
of  this  homemade  apple  butter,  which  I  didn't 
trust  your  colonel  with,  we  will  go  to  your  sitting 
room,  or  wherever  it  is  you  receive  visitors." 

There  was  quite  a  crowd  of  young  officers 
round  us  by  that  time  and  we  waited  to  be  intro 
duced.  But  Charlie  Sands  did  not  seem  to  think 
of  it,  so  Tish  put  down  the  apple  butter  on  the 
ground  and  said  to  one  of  them: 

"Now,  young  man,  since  we  seem  to  be  in  your 
way,  perhaps  you  will  take -us  to  some  place  to 
wait  for  my  nephew."  Then  seeing  that  he  looked 
rather  strange  she  added :  "But  perhaps  you  have 
never  met.  This  is  my  nephew,  Mr.  Sands.  If 
you  will  tell  me  who  you  are " 

"Williams  is  my  name,"  he  said.  "I — Major 

Williams.  I — I've  met  your  nephew — that  is 

Private  Sands,  take  these  ladies  to  the  Y.  M.  C. 
A.  hut,  and  report  back  here  in  an  hour." 

Tish  did  not  like  this ;  nor  did  I.    As  Tish  ob- 


SALVAGE  171 

served  later,  he  might  have  been  speaking  to  the 
butler. 

"He  might  at  least  have  said  'Mister/  and  a 
'please'  hurts  no  one,"  she  said.  As  for  giving 
him  only  an  hour  when  we  had  come  a  hundred 
miles — it  was  absurd.  But  war  does  queer  things. 

It  had  indeed  strangely  altered  Tish's  nephew. 
We  were  all  worried  about  him  that  day.  It  was 
his  manner  that  was  odd.  He  seemed,  as  Tish 
said  later,  suppressed.  When  for  instance  we 
wished  to  take  him  back  to  headquarters  and  pre 
sent  him  to  the  colonel  he  said  at  once:  "Who? 
Me  ?  The  colonel !  Say,  you'd  better  get  this  and 
get  it  right:  I'm  nothing  here.  I'm  less  than 
nothing.  Why,  the  colonel  could  walk  right  over 
me  on  the  parade  ground  and  never  even  know 
he'd  stepped  on  anything.  If  I  was  a  louse  and 
he  was  a  can  of  insect  powder " 

"Now  see  here,  Charlie  Sands,"  Tish  said  firm 
ly,  "I'll  trouble  you  to  remember  that  there  are 
certain  words  not  in  my  vocabulary;  and  louse 
is  one  of  them." 

"Still,  a  vocabulary  is  a  better  place  than  some 
others  I  can  think  of,"  he  observed. 

"What  is  more,"  Tish  added,  "you  are  misjudg 
ing  that  charming  colonel.  He  told  us  himself 
that  he  tried  to  be  a  mother  to  you  all." 

She  then  told  him  how  interested  the  colonel 


172  MORE  TISH 


had  been  in  the  blankets,  and  so  on,  but  I  must 
say  Charlie  Sands  was  very  queer  about  it.  He 
stopped  and  looked  at  us  all  in  turn,  and  then  he 
got  out  the  dirtiest  handkerchief  I  have  ever  seen 
and  wiped  his  forehead  with  it. 

"Perhaps  you'd  better  say  it  again,"  he  said; 
"I  don't  seem  to  get  it  altogther.  You  are  sure 
it  was  the  colonel?" 

So  Tish  repeated  it,  but  when  she  came  to 
the  eiderdown  pillow  he  held  up  his  hand. 

"All  right,"  he  said  in  a  strange  tone.  "I  be 
lieve  you.  I — you  don't  mind  if  I  go  and  get  a 
drink  of  water,  do  you?  My  mouth  is  dry." 

Dear  Tish  watched  him  as  he  went  away,  and 
shook  her  head. 

"He  is  changed  already,"  she  observed  sadly. 
"That  is  one  of  the  deadliest  effects  of  war.  It 
takes  the  bright  young  spirit  of  youth  and  feeds 
it  on  stuff  cooked  by  men,  with  not  even  time 
enough  to  chew  properly,  and  puts  it  on  its  stom 
ach  in  the  mud,  while  its  head  is  in  the  clouds  of 
idealism.  I  think  that  a  letter  to  the  Secretary  of 
War  might  be  effective." 

I  must  admit  that  we  had  a  series  of  disap 
pointments  that  day.  The  first  was  in  finding 
that  they  had  put  Tish's  nephew,  a  grandson  of  a 
former  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court,  into  a 
building  with  a  number  of  other  men.  Not  only 


SALVAGE 173 

that  but  without  so  much  as  a  screen,  or  a  closet 
in  which  to  hang  up  his  clothing. 

"What  do  you  mean,  hang  up  my  clothes  ?"  he 
said  when  we  protested.  "They're  hung  up  all 
right — on  me." 

"It  seems  rather  terrible,"  Aggie  objected  gen 
tly.  "No  privacy  or  anything." 

"Privacy!    I  haven't  got  anything  to  hide." 

We  found  some  little  comfort,  however,  in 
the  fact  that  beneath  the  pitiful  cot  that  he  called 
his  bed  he  had  a  small  tin  trunk.  Even  that  was 
destroyed,  however,  by  the  entrance  of  a  thin 
young  man  called  Smithers,  who  reached  under 
the  cot  and  dragging  out  the  trunk  proceeded  to 
take  out  one  of  the  pairs  of  socks  that  Aggie  had 
knitted. 

Charlie  Sands  paid  no  attention,  but  Tish  fixed 
this  person  with  a  cold  eye. 

"Haven't  you  made  a  mistake?"  she  inquired. 
The  young  man  was  changing  his  socks,  with  his 
back  to  us,  and  he  looked  back  over  his  shoulder. 

"Sorry!"  he  said.  "Didn't  like  to  ask  you  to 
go  out.  Haven't  any  place  else  to  go,  you  know." 

"Aren't  you  putting  on  my  nephew's  socks?" 

"Extraordinary!"  he  said.  "Did  you  notice 
that?" 

"I'll  trouble  you  to  take  them  off,  young  man." 

"Well,"  he  said  reflectively,  "I'll  tell  you  what 


174  MORE  TISH 

we'll  do:  I'll  take  off  these  socks  if  he'll  return 
what  he's  got  on  that  belongs  to  me.  I  don't  re 
member  exactly,  but  I'm  darn  sure  of  his  under 
wear  and  his  breeches.  You  see,  while  you  good 
people  at  home  are  talking  democracy  we're  prac 
ticing  it,  and  Sands'  idea  is  the  best  yet.  He 
swaps  an  entire  outfit  for  a  pair  of  socks.  Even 
the  Democratic  Party  can't  improve  on  that." 

Tish  was  very  thoughtful  during  the  remainder 
of  the  afternoon,  but  she  brightened  somewhat 
when,  later  on,  we  sat  on  the  steps  of  a  building 
watching  Charlie  Sands  and  a  number  of  others 
going  through  what  Major  Williams  called  set 
ting-up  exercises.  She  was  greatly  interested  and 
made  notes  in  her  memorandum  book.  I  have  a 
copy  of  the  book  before  me  now.  The  letter  T, 
S,  A  and  B  stand  respectively  for  Toes,  Stomach, 
Arms  and  Back.  I  shall  not  quote  all  Tish's  notes, 
but  this  one,  for  instance,  is  illustrative  of  her 
thorough  methods: 

"Lying  on  B.  in  mud,  H.  flat  on  ground,  L. 
rigidly  extended:  Rise  L.  in  air  six  times.  Re 
taining  prone  position  rise  to  sitting  position  with 
out  aid  of  A.,  but  using  S.  muscles.  Repeat  six 
times.  [Note:  Director  uses  language  unfitting 
a  soldier  and  a  gentleman.  Report  to  the  Secre 
tary  of  War.]" 

She  recorded  the  other  movements  with  similar 


SALVAGE  175 


care,  and  after  one  is  the  thoughtful  observation: 
"Excellent  to  make  Lizzie  look  less  like  a  bolster." 

I  find  all  of  Tish's  notes  taken  that  day  as 
very  indicative  of  the  thoroughness  with  which 
she  does  everything.  For  instance  she  made  the 
following  recommendations  to  be  sent  to  the  War 
Department: 

"That  the  camp  cooks  be  instructed  to  use 
hemmed  tea  towels  instead  of  sacking,  and  to  boil 
the  dish  towels  after  each  meal,  preferably  with 
soap  powder  and  soda. 

"That  screens  be  provided  between  cots,  to  give 
that  measure  of  privacy  necessary  to  a  man's  self- 
respect. 

"Large,  commodious  clothes  closets  in  the  bar 
racks.  A  bag  of  camphor  in  each  one  would  serve 
to  keep  away  moths.  Also,  that  wearing  apparel 
should  not  be  borrowed. 

"All  army  blankets  should  be  marked  as  to 
the  end  to  go  to  the  top  of  the  cot.  Sheets  should 
also  be  provided,  as  blankets  scratch  and  have  a 
tendency  to  keep  the  soldier  awake. 

"Soda  fountains  here  and  there  through  the 
camp  would  do  a  great  deal  to  prevent  the  men  in 
training  from  going  to  neighboring  towns  after 
certain  deleterious  liquids.  [Should,  however,  be 
served  by  male  attendants.] 

"Pyjamas  should  be  included  in  every  soldier's 


176  MORE  TISH 


equipment.  [Charlie  Sands  had  told  us  a  star 
tling  thing.  On  inquiring  what  had  become  of  the 
raw-silk  pyjamas  we  had  made  him  as  a  part  of 
his  army  equipment  he  confessed  that  he  did  not 
use  them,  and  in  fact  had  torn  them  into  rags 
to  clean  his  gun.  He  went  even  further,  and  stated 
that  it  was  not  the  custom  of  the  men  to  use 
pyjamas  at  all,  and  that  in  fact  on  cold  nights 
some  of  them  merely  removed  their  hats  and 
shoes,  and  then  retired.] 

"Table  linen,  even  if  coarse,  should  be  pro 
vided.  Are  our  men  to  come  back  to  us  savages  ?" 

It  may  have  been  purely  coincidence,  but  soon 
after  Tish's  recommendations  had  been  received 
at  the  War  Department  the  Fosdick  Commission 
was  appointed.  Yet  we  carried  away  a  convic 
tion  that  though  certain  things  had  been  sadly 
neglected  Charlie  Sands  was  in  good  hands.  The 
colonel  came  up  to  speak  to  us  when,  seeing  the 
men  standing  in  rows  on  the  parade  ground  about 
sunset  while  the  band  played,  we  stood  watch 
ing. 

He  was  very  pleasant,  and  said  that  they  were 
about  to  bring  in  the  flag.  Some  such  conver 
sation  then  ensued: 

TISH:    Do  you  bring  in  the  flag  every  night? 

THE  COLONEL:     Every  night,  madam. 


SALVAGE  177 

TISH:  Then  you  are  a  better  housekeeper 
than  I  thought  you  were. 

THE  COLONEL:    I  beg  your  pardon? 

TISH  (magnanimously)  :  You  may  not  know 
much  about  dishcloths,  but  you  are  right  about 
flags.  They  do  fade,  and  I  dare  say  dew  is  about 
as  bad  as  rain  for  them. 

He  seemed  very  much  gratified  by  her  ap 
proval,  and  said  in  twenty-five  years  in  the  Army 
he  had  never  failed  to  have  the  flag  brought  in  at 
night.  "I  may  fail  in  other  things,"  he  said  wist 
fully.  "To  err  is  human,  you  know.  But  the 
flag  proposition  is  one  I  stand  pat  on." 

It  was  after  our  return  visit  to  the  camp  that 
the  real  change  in  Tish  began.  We  had  gone  to 
our  cottage  in  Lake  Penzance  for  the  summer, 
and  Tish  suggested  that  we  study  French  there. 
She  had  an  excellent  French  book,  with  photo 
graphs  in  it  showing  where  to  place  the  tongue 
and  how  to  pucker  the  lips  for  certain  sounds.  At 
first  she  did  not  allow  us  to  do  anything  but  prac 
tice  these  facial  expressions,  and  I  remember 
finding  Hannah  in  the  kitchen  one  night  crying 
into  her  bread  sponge  and  asking  her  what  the 
trouble  was. 

"I  just  can't  bear  it,  Miss  Lizzie,"  she  said; 
"when  I  look  in  and  see  the  three  of  you  sitting 
there  making  faces  I  nearly  go  crazy.  I've  got  so 


178  MORE  TISH 


I  do  it  myself,  and  the  milkman  won't  leave  the 
bottles  no  nearer  than  the  gate." 

After  some  days  of  silent  practice  Tish  consid 
ered  that  we  could  advance  a  lesson,  and  we  be 
gan  with  syllable  sounds,  thus: 

Ba — Said  with  tip  of  tongue  against  lower 
teeth. 

Be — Show  two  upper  middle  teeth. 

Bi — Broad  smile. 

Bu— Whistle. 

Bon — Pout. 

It  was  an  excellent  method,  though  we  all 
found  difficulty  in  showing  only  two  upper  middle 
teeth. 

There  were  also  syllables  which  called  for  hol 
low  cheeks,  and  I  remember  Tish's  irritation  at 
my  failure. 

"If  you  would  eat  less  whipped  cream,  Lizzie," 
she  said  scathingly,  "  you  might  learn  the  French 
language.  Otherwise  you  might  as  well  give  it 
up." 

"I  dare  say  there  are  plump  people  among  the 
French,"  I  retorted.  "And  I  never  heard  that  a 
Frenchwoman  who  put  on  twenty  pounds  or  so 
went  dumb.  That  woman  who  trims  your  hats 
isn't  dumb  so  you  could  notice  it.  I'd  thank  my 
stars  if  she  was.  She  can  say  forty  dollars  fast 


SALVAGE  179 

enough,  and  she  doesn't  suck  in  her  cheeks 
either!" 

In  the  end  Aggie  and  I  gave  up  the  French 
lessons,  but  Tish  kept  them  up.  She  learned  ten 
nouns  a  day,  and  she  made  an  attempt  at  verbs, 
but  gave  it  up. 

"I  can  secure  anything  I  want,  if  I  ever  visit 
our  valiant  Ally,"  she  said,  "by  naming  it  in  the 
French  and  then  making  the  appropriate  ges 
ture." 

She  made  the  experiment  on  Hannah,  and  it 
worked  well  enough.  She  would  say  ''butter" 
or  "spoon"  and  point  to  her  place  at  the  table; 
but  Hannah  almost  left  on  the  strength  of  it,  and 
when  she  tried  it  on  Mr.  Jennings,  the  fishman, 
he  told  all  over  Penzance  that  she  had  lost  either 
her  mind  or  her  teeth. 

Aggie  and  I  were  extremely  uneasy  all  of  July, 
for  Tish  does  nothing  without  a  motive,  and  she 
was  learning  in  French  such  warlike  phrases  as 
"Take  the  trenches,"  "The  enemy  is  retiring," 
and  "We  must  attack  from  the  rear."  She  also 
took  to  testing  out  the  engine  of  her  automobile 
in  various  ways,  and  twice,  trying  to  cross  a 
plowed  field  with  it,  had  to  be  drawn  out  with  a 
rope.  She  took  to  driving  at  night  without  lights 
also,  and  had  the  ill  luck  to  run  into  the  Pen 
zance  doctor's  buggy  and  take  a  wheel  off  it. 


180  MORE  TISH 


It  was  after  that  incident,  when  we  had  taken 
the  doctor  home  and  put  him  to  bed,  that  I  de 
manded  an  explanation. 

But  she  only  said  with  a  far-away  look  in  her 
eyes :  "Ft  may  be  a  useful  accomplishment  some 
time.  If  one  were  going  after  wounded  at  night 
it  would  be  invaluable." 

"Not  if  you  killed  all  the  doctors  on  the  way!" 
I  snapped. 

The  limit  to  our  patience  came  soon  after  that. 
One  morning  about  the  first  of  August  the  boat 
man  from  the  lake  came  up  the  path  with  a  spade 
over  his  shoulder.  Tish,  we  perceived,  tried  to 
take  him  aside,  but  he  gave  her  no  time. 

"Well,  I've  done  it,  Miss  Tish,"  he  said,  "and 
God  only  knows  what'll  happen  if  somebody  runs 
into  it  between  now  and  tomorrow  morning." 

"Nobody  will  know  you  did  it  unless  you  con 
tinue  to  shout  the  way  you  are  doing  now." 

"Oh,  I'll  not  tell,"  he  observed;  "I'm  not  so 
proud  of  it.  But  'twouldn't  surprise  me  a  mite 
if  we  both  did  some  time  together  in  the  county 
jail,  on  the  head  of  it,  Miss  Tish." 

Well,  Aggie  went  pale,  but  Tish  merely  gave 
him  five  dollars  and  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  shut 
in  the  garage  with  her  car.  I  went  back  and 
looked  in  the  window  during  the  afternoon,  and 


SALVAGE  181 


she  was  on  her  back  under  it,  hammering  at  some 
thing. 

That  night  at  dinner  she  made  an  announce 
ment. 

"I  have  for  some  time,"  she  said,  "been  consid 
ering — go  out,  Hannah,  and  close  the  door — 
been  considering  the  values  of  different  engines 
for  an  ambulance  which  I  propose  to  take  to 
France." 

"Tish !"  Aggie  cried  in  a  heart-rending  tone. 

"And  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  my 
own  car  has  the  best  engine  on  the  market.  To 
night  I  propose  to  make  a  final  test  and  if  it  suc 
ceeds  I  shall  have  an  ambulance  body  built  on  it. 
I  know  this  engine;  I  may  almost  say  I  have  an 
affection  for  it.  And  it  has  served  me  well. 
Why,  I  ask  you,  should  I  abandon  it  and  take 
some  new-fangled  thing  that  would  as  like  as  not 
lie  down  and  die  the  minute  it  heard  the  first 
shell?" 

"Exactly,"  I  said  with  some  feeling;  "why 
should  you,  when  you  can  count  on  me  doing  it 
anyhow  ?" 

She  ignored  that,  however,  and  said  she  had 
fully  determined  to  go  abroad  and  to  get  as  near 
the  Front  as  possible.  She  said  also  that  she  had 
already  written  General  Pershing,  and  that  she 
expected  to  start  the  moment  his  reply  came. 


182  MORE  TISH 


"I  told  him,"  she  observed,  "that  I  would  pre 
fer  not  being  assigned  to  any  particular  part  of 
the  line,  as  it  was  my  intention,  though  not  sacri 
ficing  the  national  good  to  it,  to  remain  as  near 
my  nephew  as  possible.  Pershing  is  a  father  and 
I  felt  that  he  would  understand." 

She  then  prepared  to  take  the  car  out,  and 
with  a  feeling  of  desperation  Aggie  and  I  fol 
lowed  her. 

For  some  time  we  pursued  the  even  tenor  of 
our  way,  varied  only  by  Tish's  observing  over  her 
shoulder:  "No  matter  what  happens,  do  not  be 
alarmed,  and  don't  yell!" 

Aggie  was  for  getting  out  then,  but  we  have 
always  stood  by  Tish  in  an  emergency,  and  we 
could  not  fail  her  then.  She  had  turned  into  a 
dark  lane  and  we  were  moving  rapidly  along  it. 

"When  I  say  'Ready!'  brace  yourselves  for  a 
jar,"  Tish  admonished  us.  Aggie  was  trembling, 
and  she  had  just  put  a  small  flash  of  blackberry 
cordial  to  her  lips  to  steady  herself  when  the 
machine  went  over  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  throw 
ing  Aggie  into  the  road  and  myself  forward  into 
the  front  of  the  car. 

There  was  complete  silence  for  a  moment. 
Then  Aggie  said  in  a  reproachful  voice:  "You 
didn't  say  'Ready!'  Tish." 

Tish,  however,  said  nothing,  and  in  the  star- 


SALVAGE 183 

light  I  perceived  her  bent  foward  over  the  steer 
ing  wheel.  The  car  was  standing  on  its  forward 
end  at  the  time. 

"Tish!"  I  cried.     "Tish!" 

She  then  straightened  herself  and  put  both 
hands  over  the  pit  of  her  stomach. 

"I've  burst  something,  Lizzie,"  she  said  in  a 
strangled  tone.  "My  gall  bladder,  probably." 

She  then  leaned  back  and  closed  her  eyes.  We 
were  greatly  alarmed,  as  it  is  unlike  our  brave 
Tish  to  give  in  until  the  very  last,  but  finally  she 
sat  erect,  groaning. 

"I  am  going  back  and  kill  that  boatman,"  she 
said.  "I  told  him  to  dig  a  shell  hole,  not  a  cellar." 
Here  she  stood  up  and  felt  her  pulse.  "If  I've 
burst  anything,"  she  announced  a  moment  later, 
"it's  a  corset  steel.  That  boatman  is  a  fool,  but 
at  least  he  has  given  us  a  chance  to  see  if  we  are  of 
the  material  which  France  requires  at  this  tragic 
juncture." 

"I  can  tell  you  right  away  that  J.  am  not," 
Aggie  said  tartly.  "I'm  not  and  I  don't  want  to 
be.  Though  I  can't  see  how  biting  my  tongue 
half  through  is  going  to  help  France  anyhow." 

But  Tish  was  not  listening.  She  had  lifted 
three  shovels  out  of  the  car,  and  we  could  see 
her  dauntless  figure  outlined  against  the  darkness. 

"The  Germans,"  she  said  at  last,  "are  over 


184  MORE  TISH 


there  behind  that  chicken  house.  The  machine 
is  stalled  in  a  shell  hole  and  contains  a  wounded 
soldier.  We  are  being  shelled  and  there  are 
those  what-you-call-'em  lights  overhead.  We 
must  escape  or  be  killed.  There  is  only  one  thing 
to  do.  Lizzie,  what  is  your  idea  of  the  next 
step?" 

"Anybody  but  a  lunatic  would  know  that," 
I  said  tartly.  "The  thing  to  do  is  to  go  home 
and  make  an  affidavit  that  we  never  saw  that 
car,  and  that  the  hole  in  this  road  is  where  it  was 
struck  by  lighting." 

"Aggie,"  Tish  said  without  paying  any  at 
tention  to  me,  "here  is  a  shovel  for  you." 

But  Aggie  sniffed. 

"Not  at  all,  Tish  Carberry,"  she  observed.  "I 
am  the  wounded  soldier,  and  I  don't  stir  a  foot." 

In  the  end,  however,  we  all  went  to  work  to 
dig  the  car  out  of  the  hole,  and  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning  Tish  climbed  in  and  started  the 
engine.  It  climbed  out  slowly,  but  as  Tish  ob 
served  it  gave  an  excellent  account  of  itself. 

"And  I  must  say,"  she  said,  "I  believe  we  have 
all  shown  that  we  can  meet  emergency  in  the 
proper  spirit.  As  for  the  hole,  that  driveling  idiot 
who  dug  it  can  fill  it  up  tomorrow  morning  and 
no  one  be  the  wiser." 

I  have  made  this  explanation  because  of  the 


SALVAGE  185 


ugly  reports  spread  by  the  boatman  himself.  It 
is  necessary,  because  it  appears  that  he  became 
intoxicated  on  the  money  Tish  had  so  generously 
given  him,  and  the  milk  wagon  which  supplied  us 
going  into  the  hole  an  hour  or  so  after  we  had 
left  he  shamelessly  told  his  own  part  and  ours  in 
the  catastrophe.  The  result  was  that  waking  the 
next  morning  with  a  severe  attack  of  lumbago 
I  heard  our  splendid  Tish  being  attacked  verbally 
by  the  milkman  and  forced  to  pay  an  outrageous 
sum  in  damages. 

By  September  Tish  had  had  the  old  body  re 
moved  from  her  automobile  and  an  ambulance 
body  built  on.  She  made  the  drawings  for  it  her 
self,  and  it  contained  many  improvements  over 
the  standard  makes.  It  contained,  for  instance, 
a  cigarette  lighter — not  that  Tish  smokes,  but 
because  wounded  men  always  do,  and  we  knew 
that  matches  were  scarce  in  France.  It  also  con 
tained  an  ice-water  tank,  a  reading  lamp,  with  a 
small  portable  library  of  improving  books  selected 
by  our  clergyman,  Mr.  Ostermaier,  and  a  false 
bottom.  This  last  Tish  was  rather  mysterious 
about,  merely  remarking  that  it  might  be  a  good 
place  for  Aggie  to  retire  to  if  she  took  a  sneez 
ing  spell  within  earshot  of  the  enemy. 

When  I  look  back  and  recall  how  foresighted 
Letitia  Carberry  was  I  am  filled  with  admiration 


186  MORE  TISH 


of  those  sterling  qualities  which  have  so  many 
times  brought  us  safely  out  of  terrible  danger. 

We  were,  however,  doomed  at  first  to  real  dis 
appointment.  With  everything  arranged,  with 
the  ambulance  ready  and  our  costumes  made,  we 
could  not  get  to  France.  Tish  made  a  special  trip 
to  Washington  to  see  the  Secretary  of  War,  and 
he  remembered  very  well  her  recommendations  as 
to  the  camps,  and  so  forth,  and  said  that  he  had 
referred  the  matter  of  pyjamas,  for  instance,  to 
the  Chief  of  Staff.  He  himself  felt  that  the  point 
was  well  taken.  He  believed  in  pyjamas,  and 
wore  them,  but  that  he  had  an  impression,  though 
he  did  not  care  to  go  on  record  about  it,  that  the 
chief  of  staff  advocated  nightshirts.  He  also  said 
that  he  had  a  letter  from  General  Pershing  asking 
that  no  relatives  of  soldiers  go  to  France,  as  he 
was  afraid  that  the  gentle  and  restraining  influ 
ence  of  their  loved  ones  would  impair  their  taste 
for  war. 

Aggie  and  I  began  to  have  a  little  hope  at  that 
time,  and  Aggie  tore  up  a  will  she  had  made  leav 
ing  her  property  to  the  Red  Cross,  on  condition 
that  it  kept  up  Mr.  Wiggins'  lot  in  the  cemetery. 
But  just  as  we  were  feeling  more  cheerful  Aggie 
had  a  warning.  She  had  been  reading  every 
where  of  the  revival  in  spiritualism,  and  once  be 
fore  when  she  was  in  doubt  she  had  been  most 


SALVAGE  187 


successful  with  a  woman  who  told  the  future  with 
the  paste  letters  that  are  used  in  soup.  She  went 
to  a  clairvoyant  and  he  told  her  to  be  very  careful 
of  high  places,  and  that  the  warning  came  from 
some  one  who  had  passed  over  from  a  high  place. 
He  thought  it  was  an  aviator,  but  we  knew  better, 
and  Aggie  looked  at  me  with  agonized  eyes. 

Aggie  has  said  since  that  when  she  was  in  her 

terrible  position  at  V she  remembered  that 

warning,  but  of  course  it  was  too  late  then. 

It  was  when  we  had  gone  back  to  the  city  that 
we  realized  that  Tish  was  still  determined  to  get 
to  France.  Only  two  days  after  our  return  she 
came  in  with  a  book  called  "Military  Codes  and 
Signals,"  and  gave  it  to  Aggie.  She  had  it  marked 
at  a  place  which  told  how  to  signal  at  night  with 
an  electric  flashlight,  and  from  that  time  on  for 
several  weeks  she  would  sit  in  her  window  at 
night,  with  Aggie  on  the  pavement  across  the 
street,  also  with  a  pocket  flash,  both  of  them  sig 
naling  anything  that  came  into  their  heads.  It 
was  rather  hard  on  Aggie  on  cold  evenings,  and 
I  remember  very  well  that  one  night  she  came  in 
and  threw  her  flashlight  on  the  floor,  and  then 
burst  into  tears. 

"I'm  through,  Tish,"  she  said,  "and  that's  all 
there  is  to  it!  I've  stood  being  frozen  until  my 


188  MORE  TISH 

feet  are  so  cold  I  can't  tell  one  from  the  other, 
but  I  draw  the  line  at  being  insulted." 

"Insulted?"  Tish  said.  "If  you  are  going  to 
mind  trifles  when  your  country's  safety  is  in  ques 
tion  you'd  better  stay  at  home.  Who  insulted 
you?" 

Well,  it  seems  that  by  way  of  conversation 
Aggie  had  flashed  that  the  wretch  with  the  cornet 
who  rooms  above  Tish's  apartment  was  at  the 
window  watching  and  she  wished  he'd  fall  out  and 
break  his  neck. 

He  had  then  put  out  his  own  light  and  had 
appeared  in  the  window  again,  and  had  flashed 
in  the  same  code:  "Come,  birdie,,  fly  with  me." 

For  certain  reasons  I  have  decided  not  to  reveal 
how  Tish  finally  arranged  that  we  should  get  to 
France.  As  the  Secretary  of  War  says,  it  might 
make  him  very  unpopular  with  the  many  women 
he  had  been  obliged  to  refuse.  It  is  enough  to 
say  that  the  wonderful  day  finally  came  when  we 
found  ourselves  on  the  very  ocean  which  had  car 
ried  Tish's  nephew  on  his  glorious  mission. 
Aggie  was  particularly  exalted  as  we  went  down 
the  bay,  escorted  by  encircling  aeroplanes. 

"I'm  not  a  brave  woman,  Tish,"  she  said  softly, 
"but  as  I  look  back  on  that  glorious  sky  line  I 
feel  that  no  sacrifice  is  too  great  to  make  for  it. 
I  am  ready  to  do  or  die." 


SALVAGE  189 


"Humph,"  said  Tish.  "Well,  as  far  as  I'm  con 
cerned,  after  the  prices  they  charged  me  at  that 
hotel  the  Germans  are  welcome  to  New  York.  I'd 
give  it  to  them  and  say  'Thank  you'  when  they 
took  it." 

We  then  went  below  and  tried  on  our  life-pre 
serving  suits,  which  the  clerk  at  the  steamship 
office  had  rented  to  us  at  fifteen  dollars  each. 

He  said  they  were  most  essential,  and  that 
when  properly  inflated  one  could  float  about  in 
them  for  a  week.  Indeed,  as  Tish  said,  with  a 
compass  and  a  small  sail  one  could  probably  make 
the  nearest  land,  such  as  the  Azores,  supporting 
life  in  the  meantime  with  ship's  biscuits,  and  so 
on,  in  waterproof  packages,  carried  in  the  pockets 
provided  for  the  purpose.  She  did  indeed  go  so 
far  as  to  place  a  bottle  of  blackberry  cordial  in 
the  pocket  of  each  suit,  and  also  a  small  tin  of 
preserved  ginger,  which  we  have  always  found 
highly  sustaining.  But  we  were  somewhat  un 
easy  to  discover  that  it  required  a  considerable 
length  of  time  to  get  into  the  suits. 

We  had  barely  got  into  them  when  we  heard 
a  bugle  blowing  and  men  running.  Just  after 
that  an  alarm  bell  began  to  ring,  and  Aggie  said 
"It  has  come!"  and  as  usual  commenced  to  sneeze 
violently.  We  ran  out  on  deck,  dear  Tish  saying 
to  be  calm,  as  more  lives  were  lost  through  ex- 


190  MORE  TISH 


citement  than  anything  else;  though  she  herself 
was  none  too  calm,  for  when  we  found  afterward 
that  it  was  only  a  lifeboat  drill  I  discovered  that 
she  was  carrying  her  silver-handled  umbrella. 

Every  one  was  on  the  deck,  and  I  must  say  that 
we  were  followed  by  envious  glances.  As  we  had 
inflated  the  suits  they  were  not  immodest,  effectu 
ally  concealing  the  lines  of  the  figure,  but  making 
it  difficult  to  pass  through  doorways. 

There  was  a  very  nice  young  man  on  deck,  in  a 
Red  Cross  uniform,  and  he  said  that  as  he  was 
the  only  male  in  our  lifeboat  he  was  pleased  to 
see  that  three  of  the  eighteen  ladies  in  it  were 
prepared  to  take  care  of  themselves.  He  said  that 
he  felt  he  would  probably  have  his  hands  full  sav 
ing  the  fifteen  others. 

"Not,"  he  added,  "that  I  should  feel  comfort 
able  until  you  were  safely  in  the  boat  anyhow.  I 
should  not  like  to  think  of  you  floating  about, 
perhaps  for  weeks,  and  possibly  dodging  sharks 
and  so  on." 

Tish  liked  him  at  once,  and  said  that  in  case  of 
trouble  if  the  boat  were  crowded  we  would  only 
ask  for  a  towing  line. 

It  was  while  this  conversation  was  going  on 
that  Aggie  suddenly  said:  "I've  changed  my 
mind,  Tish,  I'm  not  going." 

Well,  we  looked  at  her.    She  was  a  green  color, 


SALVAGE  191 


and  she  said  she'd  thank  us  to  put  her  off  in 
something  or  other  and  let  her  go  back.  She 
wasn't  seasick,  but  she  just  didn't  care  for  the 
sea.  She  never  had  and  she  never  would.  And 
then  she  said  "Ugh!"  and  the  Red  Cross  man 
put  his  arm  around  her  as  far  as  it  would  go  in 
the  rubber  suit,  and  said  that  certainly  she  was 
not  seasick,  but  that  some  people  found  the  sea 
air  too  stimulating,  and  she'd  better  go  below  and 
not  get  too  much  of  it  at  first. 

He  helped  us  get  Aggie  down  to  her  cabin,  but 
unluckily  he  put  her  down  on  Tish's  knitting. 
We  had  the  misfortune  to  hear  a  slow  hissing 
sound,  and  her  inflated  suit  began  to  wilt  imme 
diately,  where  a  steel  needle  had  penetrated  it. 

Even  then  both  Tish  and  I  noticed  that  he  had 
a  sad  face,  and  later  on,  when  we  had  put  Aggie 
to  bed  in  her  life  suit,  for  she  refused  to  have  it 
taken  off,  we  sat  in  Tish's  cabin  across,  listening 
to  Aggie's  moans  and  to  his  story. 

Tish  had  immediately  demanded  to  know  why 
he  was  not  in  the  uniform  of  a  fighting  man,  and 
he  said  at  once:  "I'm  glad  you  asked  me  that. 
I've  been  wanting  to  tell  the  whole  ship  about  it, 
but  it's  so  darned  ridiculous.  I've  tried  every 
branch  and  they've  all  turned  me  down,  for  a — 
for  a  physical  infirmity." 

"Flat  feet?"  Tish  asked. 


192  MORE  TISH 


"No.  The  truth  is,  I've  had  a  milk  leg.  Fact. 
I  know  it  is — er — generally  limited  to  the  other 
sex  at — er — certain  periods.  But  I've  had  it. 
Can't  hike  any  distance.  Can't  run.  Couldn't 
even  kick  a  Hun,"  he  added  bitterly.  "And 
what's  more,  there's  a  girl  on  this  ship  who  thinks 
I'm  a  slacker,  and  I  can't  tell  her  about  it.  She 
wouldn't  believe  me  if  I  did — though  why  a  fel 
low  would  make  up  a  milk  leg  I  don't  know.  And 
she'd  laugh.  Everybody  laughs.  I've  made  a  lot 
of  people  happy." 

"Why  don't  you  tell  her  you  have  heart  dis 
ease?"  Tish  inquired  in  a  gentler  tone.  Though 
not  young  herself  she  has  preserved  a  fine  interest 
in  the  love  affairs  of  youth. 

"Oh,  I've  got  that  all  right,"  he  said  gloomily. 
"But  it's  not  the  sort  that  keeps  a  fellow  out  of 
the  Army.  It's — well,  that  doesn't  matter.  But 
suppose  I  told  her  that  ?  She  wouldn't  marry  me 
with  heart  disease." 

"Tish!"  Aggie  called  faintly. 

In  the  end  we  were  obliged  to  cut  the  rubber 
suit  off  with  the  scissors,  as  she  not  only  refused 
to  get  up  but  wanted  to  drown  if  we  were  tor 
pedoed.  We  therefore  did  not  see  the  young  man 
again  until  evening,  and  then  he  was  with  a  very- 
pretty  girl  in  a  Y.  M.  C.  A.  uniform.  We  had 
gone  up  on  deck  for  air,  and  Tish  was  looking 


SALVAGE  193 

for  the  captain.  She  had  a  theory  that  if  we 
could  put  Aggie  in  a  hammock  she  would  feel  bet 
ter,  as  the  hammock  would  remain  stationary 
while  the  ship  rocked.  Just  as  we  passed  them 
the  girl  said :  "He's  the  best-looking  man  on  the 
ship  anyhow.  And  he's  a  captain  in  the  infantry. 
He  says  it  is  the  most  dangerous  branch  of  the 
service." 

"Oh,  he  does,  does  he?"  said  the  Red  Cross 
young  man.  "Well,  you'd  better  wait  six  months 
before  you  fall  too  hard  for  him.  He  may  get 
his  face  changed,  and  there  isn't  much  behind  it." 

He  spoke  quite  savagely,  and  both  Tish  and  I 
felt  that  he  was  making  a  mistake,  and  that  gen 
tleness,  with  just  a  suggestion  of  the  caveman 
beneath,  would  have  been  more  efficacious.  In 
deed  when  we  knew  Mr.  Burton  better — that  was 
his  name — we  ventured  the  suggestion,  but  he 
only  shook  his  head. 

"You  don't  know  her,"  he  said.  "She  is  the 
sort  of  girl  who  likes  to  take  the  soft-spoken 
fellow  and  make  him  savage.  And  when  she  gets 
the  cave  type  she  wants  to  tame  him.  I've  tried 
being  both,  so  I  know.  I'm  damned — I  beg  your 
pardon — I'm  cursed  if  I  know  why  I  care  for  her. 
I  suppose  it's  because  she  has  about  as  much  use 
for  me  as  she  has  for  a  dose  of  Paris  green.  But 
if  you  hear  of  that  Weber  who  hangs  round  her 


194  MORE  TISH 


going  overboard  some  night,  I  hope  you'll  under 
stand.  That's  all." 

That  conversation,  however,  was  later  on  in 
the  voyage.  That  first  night  out  Tish  saw  the 
captain  and  he  finally  agreed,  if  we  said  nothing 
about  it,  to  have  a  sailor's  hammock  hung  in 
Aggie's  cabin. 

"It  wouldn't  do  to  have  it  get  about,  madam," 
he  said.  "You  know  how  it  is — I'd  have  all  the 
passengers  in  hammocks  in  twenty-four  hours, 
and  the  crew  sleeping  on  the  decks.  And  you 
know  crews  are  touchy  these  days,  what  with  sub 
marines  and  chaplains  and  young  shave-tails  of 
officers  who  expect  to  be  kissed  every  time  they're 
asked  to  get  off  a  coil  of  rope." 

We  promised  secrecy,  and  that  evening  a  ham 
mock  was  hung  in  Aggie's  cabin.  It  was  not 
much  like  a  hammock,  however,  and  it  was  so 
high  that  Tish  said  it  looked  more  like  a  chan 
delier  than  anything  else.  Getting  Aggie  into  it 
required  the  steward,  the  stewardess,  Mr.  Burton 
and  ourselves,  but  it  was  finally  done,  and  we  all 
felt  easier  at  once,  except  that  I  was  obliged  to 
stand  on  a  chair  to  feed  her  her  beef  tea. 

However,  just  after  midnight  Tish  and  I  in  our 
cabin  across  heard  a  terrible  thud,  followed  by 
silence  and  then  by  low,  dreadful  moans.  Aggie 
had  fallen  out.  She  did  not  speak  at  all  for  some 


SALVAGE  195 


time,  and  when  she  did  it  was  to  horrify  Tish. 
For  she  said:  "Damnation!" 

Tish  immediately  turned  and  left  the  cabin, 
leaving  me  to  press  a  cold  knife  against  the  lump 
on  Aggie's  head  and  to  put  her  back  into  her 
berth.  She  refused  the  hammock  absolutely. 
She  said  she  had  forgotten  where  she  was,  and 
had  merely  reached  out  for  her  bedroom  slippers, 
which  were  six  feet  below,  when  the  whole  thing 
had  turned  over  and  thrown  her  out. 

She  insisted  that  she  did  not  remember  saying 
anything  improper,  but  that  the  time  Tish's  horse 
had  thrown  her  in  the  cemetery  she  had  certainty 
used  strong  language,  to  say  the  least. 

I  remember  telling  Tish  this,  and  she  justified 
herself  by  the  subconscious  mind,  which  she  was 
studying  at  the  time.  She  said  that  the  sub 
conscious  mind  stored  up  all  the  wicked  words 
and  impulses  which  the  conscious  mind  puts  vir 
tuously  from  it.  And  she  recalled  the  fact  that 
Mr.  Ostermaier,  our  clergyman,  taking  laughing 
gas  to  have  a  tooth  drawn,  tried  to  kiss  the  dentist 
on  coming  out,  and  called  him  a  sweet  little  thing 
— though  Mrs.  Ostermaier  is  quite  a  large 
woman. 

We  became  quite  friendly  with  Mr.  Burton 
during  the  remainder  of  the  voyage.  He  formed 
the  habit  of  coming  down  every  evening  before 


196  MORE  TISH 

dinner  to  our  cabin  and  having  a  dose  of  black 
berry  cordial  to  prevent  seasickness. 

"I've  had  it  before,"  he  said  on  one  occasion, 
"but  never  with  such — er — medicinal  qualities. 
You  don't  put  anything  in  it  but  blackberries,  do 
you?" 

"Only  a  little  alcohol  to  preserve  it,"  I  told 
him  with  some  pride.  I  generally  make  it  my 
self. 

"I  will  say  this  for  it :  It's  extremely  well  pre 
served,"  he  said,  and  filled  up  the  tooth  mug 
again.  It  was  after  that  that  he  told  us  that 
Hilda  had  refused  to  marry  him,  and  was  flirt 
ing  outrageously  with  Captain  Weber. 

"I  only  say  this,"  he  added  gloomily:  "He's 
right  when  he  says  he  belongs  in  the  infantry. 
He's  got  the  photographs  of  five  youngsters  in 
his  cabin ;  or  he  did  have.  He's  probably  hidden 
them  now." 

"Why  don't  you  tell  her?"  Tish  demanded. 

"Why  should  I?  Let  her  make  a  fool  of  her 
self  if  she  wants  to,"  he  said  despondently. 
"What  chance  have  I  against  a  shipload  of  'em, 
anyhow?  If  it  wasn't  this  one  it  would  be  an 
other.  She's  got  her  eye  on  a  tank  now,  and 
she's  only  waiting  for  that  aviator  to  forget  his 
stomach  to  sit  at  his  feet  and  worship.  God  only 


SALVAGE  197 


knows  what  would  happen  if  we  had  a  Croix  de 
Guerre  on  board." 

He  sat  for  some  time,  sipping  the  blackberry 
cordial  and  looking  into  space. 

"I've  got  it  figured  out  this  way,"  he  said  at 
last.  "I've  got  to  pull  off  something  over  there. 
That's  all.  Got  to  get  in  the  papers  and  get  a 
medal  and  a  wooden  leg.  She'd  stand  for  a 
wooden  leg  better  than  a  milk  one,"  he  added 
viciously. 

Both  Aggie  and  I  noticed  that  Tish  regarded 
him  with  a  contemplative  eye,  and  from  that  time 
on  she  spent  at  least  a  part  of  every  day  with 
him.  He  paid  no  attention  at  all  to  Hilda  from 
that  time  on,  and  one  morning  while  Tish  and 
Mr.  Burton  were  walking  by  her  chair  she 
dropped  a  book.  But  he  did  not  seem  to  see  it,  and 
that  evening  the  captain  moved  over  to  her  table, 
and  Mr.  Burton  was  very  gay,  but  ate  hardly  any 
dinner. 

We  all  went  in  the  same  train  to  Paris,  and 
he  had  a  sort  of  revenge  then.  For  the  captain 
could  not  speak  French,  and  she  had  to  ask  Mr. 
Burton  .to  order  her  dinner  for  her.  But  he  or 
dered  only  one,  and  the  captain  was  furious,  nat 
urally. 

"Look  here,  Burton,"  he  said,  "I'm  here,  you 
know." 


198 MORE  TISH 

"Why,  so  you  are,"  said  Mr.  Burton  coldly.  "I 
hadn't  noticed  you." 

"How  the  devil  can  I  make  that  woman  under 
stand  that  I'm.  hungry?" 

Mr.  Burton  reflected. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  he  said.  "You  might  open  your 
mouth  and  point  down  your  throat.  Most  of 
these  French  know  the  sign  language." 

He  turned  away  then,  and  I  saw  a  gleam  of  tri 
umph  in  Tish's  eye.  She  leaned  over  to  him. 

"She's  furious  that  he  can't  speak  French," 
she  said.  "Talk  to  me  in  French,  and  don't  mind 
what  I  say.  The  only  thing  I  can  remember  is 
a  list  of  a  hundred  nouns.  I'll  string  them  to 
gether  somehow." 

There  was  a  French  officer  near  us,  and  I  saw 
him  watching  Tish  carefully  as  the  conversation 
went  on.  She  said  afterward  that  as  near  as  she 
could  make  out,  Mr.  Burton  was  telling  the  his 
tory  of  the  country  we  went  through,  and  that 
when  he  paused  she  would  say  in  French :  "Hand 
kerchief,  fish,  trunk,  pencil,  book,  soup,"  or  some 
such  list. 

But  it  impressed  Hilda;  I  could  see  that. 

It  was  some  time  before  we  got  out  of  Paris, 
and  the  news  we  had  of  Charlie  Sands  was  that 

he  was  at  the  Front,  near  V ,  which  was  held 

by  the  enemy.  Tish  went  out  and  bought  a  map, 


SALVAGE  199 


and  decided  that  she  would  be  sent  in  that  di 
rection  or  nowhere.  But  for  several  weeks  noth 
ing  happened,  and  she  found  the  ambulance  had 
come  and  was  being  used  to  carry  ice  cream  to 
convalescent  hospitals  round  Paris.  What  was 
more,  she  could  not  get  it  back. 

For  once  I  thought  our  dauntless  Tish  was 
daunted.  How  true  it  is  that  we  forget  past  suc 
cess  in  present  failure!  But  after  a  number  of 
mysterious  absences  she  came  into  my  room  af 
ter  Aggie  had  gone  to  bed  and  said :  "I've  found 
where  they  keep  it." 

"Keep  what?" 

"My  ambulance." 

I  was  putting  my  hair  on  wavers  at  the  time, 
and  I  saw  in  the  mirror  that  she  had  her  hat  and 
coat  on,  and  the  expression  she  wears  when  she 
has  decided  to  break  the  law. 

"I'm  not  going  to  spend  this  night  in  a  French 
jail,  Tish  Carberry,"  I  said. 

"Very  well,"  she  retorted,  and  turned  to  go 
out. 

But  the  thought  of  Tish  alone,  embarked  on  a 
dangerous  enterprise,  was  too  much  for  me,  and 
I  called  her  back. 

"I'll  go,"  I  said,  "and  I'll  steal,  if  that's  what 
you're  up  to.  But  I'm  a  fool,  and  I  know  it.  You 
can't  deceive  a  lot  of  Frenchmen  with  your  hand- 


200  MORE  TISH 


kerchief-fish-trunk-pencil  stuff.  And  you  can't 
book-soup-oysters  yourself  out  of  jail." 

"I'm  taking  my  own,  and  only  my  own,"  Tish 
said  with  dignity. 

Well,  I  dressed  and  we  went  out  into  the  street. 
I  tried  to  tell  Tish  that  even  if  we  got  it  we 
couldn't  take  it  home  and  hide  it  under  the  bed 
or  in  a  bureau  drawer,  but  she  was  engrossed 
in  her  own  thoughts,  and  besides,  the  streets  were 
entirely  dark  and  not  a  taxicab  anywhere.  She 
had  a  city  map,  however,  and  a  flashlight,  and 
at  last  about  two  in  the  morning  we  reached  the 
street  where  she  said  it  was  stored  in  a  garage. 

I  was  limping  by  that  time,  and  there  were 
cold  chills  running  up  and  down  my  spine,  but 
Tish  was  quite  calm.  And  just  then  there  was 
a  terrific  outburst  of  noise,  whistles  and  sirens 
of  all  sorts,  and  a  man  walking  near  us  suddenly 
began  to  run  and  dived  into  a  doorway. 

"Air  raid,"  said  Tish  calmly,  and  walked  on. 
I  clutched  at  her  arm,  but  she  shook  me  off. 

"Tish!"  I  begged. 

"Don't  be  a  craven,  Lizzie,"  she  said.  "Sta 
tistics  show  that  the  percentage  of  mortality 
from  these  things  is  considerably  less  than  from 
mumps,  and  not  to  be  compared  with  riding  in  an 
elevator  or  with  the  perils  of  maternity." 

All  sorts  of  people  were  running  madly  by 


SALVAGE  201 


that  time,  and  suddenly  disappearing,  and  a  man 
with  a  bird  cage  in  his  hand  bumped  flat  into  me 
and  knocked  me  down.  Tish,  however,  had 
moved  on  without  noticing,  and  when  I  caught 
up  to  her  she  was  standing  beside  a  wide  door 
which  was  open,  staring  in. 

"This  is  the  place,"  she  said.  And  just  then 
half  a  dozen  men  poured  out  through  the  door 
way  and  ran  along  the  street.  Tish  drew  a  long 
breath. 

"You  see?"  she  said.  "Providence  watches 
over  those  whose  motives  are  pure,  even  if  com 
pelled  to  certain  methods " 

There  was  a  terrible  crash  at  that  moment 
down  the  street,  followed  by  glass  falling  all 
round  us. 

" which  are  not  entirely  ethical,"  Tish  con 
tinued  calmly.  "We  might  as  well  go  inside, 
Lizzie.  They  may  drop  another,  and  we  shall 
never  have  such  a  chance  again." 

"I  can't  walk,  Tish,"  I  said  in  a  quavering 
voice.  "My  knees  are  bending  backward." 

"Fiddlesticks!"  she  replied  scornfully  and 
stalked  inside. 

I  have  since  reflected  on  Tish  during  that  air 
raid,  on  the  calm  manner  in  which  she  filled  the 
gasoline  tank  of  her  ambulance,  on  the  way  in 
which  she  flung  out  six  empty  ice-cream  freezers, 


202  MORE  TISH 


and  the  perfect  aplomb  with  which  she  kicked 
the  tires  to  see  if  they  contained  sufficient  air. 
For  such  attributes  I  have  nothing  but  admira 
tion.  But  I  am  not  so  certain  as  to  the  mental 
processes  which  permitted  her  calmly  to  take 
three  spare  tires  from  other  cars  and  to  throw 
them  into  the  ambulance. 

Perhaps  there  is  with  all  true  greatness  an  ele 
ment  of  ruthlessness.     Or  perhaps   she   subse 
quently  sent  conscience  money  to  the  Red  Crc 
anonymously.      There   are   certain         '*^rs    oh' 
which  I  do  not  interrogate  her. 

I  was  still  sitting  on  the  running  T)oard  of  a 
limousine  inhaling  my  smelling  salts  when  she 
pronounced  all  ready  and  we  got  into  the  driving 
seat  and  started.  Just  as  we  moved  out  a  man 
came  in  from  the  street  and  began  to  ^ 
When  Tish  paid  no  attention  to  him  rne  i^oiv 
a  flying  leap  and  landed  on  the  step  beside  us. 

"Here,  what  the  do  you  think  you  a, 

doing?"  he  said  in  English.    "Where's  your  pfl 
mit?"  „ 

Tish  said  nothing,  but  turned  out  into  the 
street  and  threw  on  the  gas.  He  was  on  my  side 
and  the  jerk  almost  flung  him  off. 

"Stop  this  car!"  he  yelled.  "Hey,  Grogan! 
Grogan !" 

But  whoever  Grogan  was  he  was  still  in  some 


SALVAGE  203 


cellar  probably,  and  by  that  time  we  were  going 
very  fast.  Unluckily  the  glass  in  the  street  cut 
all  four  tires  almost  immediately,  and  we  swung 
madly  from  one  side  to  the  other.  And  just  then, 
too,  we  struck  the  hole  the  shell  had  made,  and 
went  into  it  with  a  terrible  bump.  The  man  dis 
appeared  immediately,  but  Tish  was  quite  com 
posed..  She  simply  changed  gears,  and  the  car 
crawled  out  on  the  other  side. 

"This  mqtor  will  go  anywhere,  Lizzie,"  she 
oo.id  easil^  "I  feel  that  my  judgment  is  en- 
tirel}  •  ated.  Where's  that  man?" 

"Killed,  probably,"  I  retorted  with  a  certain 
acidity. 

"I  hope  not,"  she  replied  with  kindly  tolerance. 
"But  if  he  is  it  will  be  supposed  that  a  bomb 

it  «- 

/vs  a  matter  of  fact  the  Herald  next  murning 
reported  the  miraculous  escape  of  an  American 
j  mci  on  the  very  edge  of  a  shell  hole,  recover- 
~  •  but  showing  one  of 'the  curious  results  of 
shea  she  :k,  being  convinced  that  two  women  had 
stolen  a  car  from  his  garage,  and  had  run  it  into 
the  hole  in  a  deliberate  attempt  to  kill  him. 

Aggie  read  this  to  us  at  breakfast,  and  Tish 
merely  observed  that  it  was  very  sad,  and  that 
she  proposed  studying  shell  shock  at  the  Front. 


204  MORE  T1SH 


Not  until  months  later  did  we  tell  Aggie  the  story 
of  that  night. 

That  morning  Tish  disappeared,  and  at  noon 
she  came  back  to  say  that  she  had  at  last  secured 
the  ambulance,  and  that  we  would  start  for  the 
Front  at  once.  Privately  she  told  me  that  in  a 
pocket  of  the  car  she  had  found  permits  to  get 
us  out  of  Paris,  but  that  the  car  would  be  missed 
before  long,  and  that  we  would  better  start  at 
once. 

It  is  strange  to  look  back  and  recall  with  what 
blitheness  we  prepared  to  leave.  And  it  is  inter 
esting,  too,  to  remember  the  conversation  witn 
Mr.  Burton  when  he  called  that  afternoon. 

"Hello!"  he  said,  glancing  about.  "This  looks 
like  moving  on.  Where  to,  oh,  brave  and  radiant 
spirits?" 

"We  haven't  quite  decided,"  Tish  said.  She 
was  cleaning  her  revolver  at  the  time. 

"You  haven't  decided!  Great  Scott,  haven't 
you  any  orders?  Or  any  permits?" 

"All  that  are  necessary,"  Tish  said,  squinting 
into  the  barrel  of  her  revolver.  "Aggie,  don't 
forget  your  hay-fever  spray." 

"But  look  here,"  he  began,  "you  know  this  is 
France  in  wartime.  I  hate  to  throw  a  wrench 
into  the  machinery,  but  no  one  can  travel  a  mile 


SALVAGE  205 

in  this  country  without  having  about  a  million 
papers.  You'll  be  arrested;  you'll  be " 

"Young  man,"  Tish  said  quietly,  pouring  oil 
on  a  rag,  "I  was  arrested  before  you  were  born. 
Aggie,  will  you  order  some  tea  ?  And  make  mine 
very  weak." 

"Weak  tea!"  he  repeated  with  a  sort  of  groan. 
"Weak  tea!  And  yet  you  start  for  the  Front, 
picking  out  any  trench  that  takes  your  fancy, 
and — weak  tea !  And  I  am  going  to  St.-Nazaire! 
I,  a  man,  with  a  man's  stomach  and  a  mad  affec 
tion  for  a  girl  who  thinks  I  prefer  serving  dough 
nuts  to  fighting!  I  do  that,  while  you " 

"Why  do  you  go  to  St.-Nazaire?"  Tish  in 
quired.  "You  can  sit  with  Aggie  inside  the  am 
bulance,  and  I'm  sure  you  could  be  useful,  chang 
ing  tires,  and  so  on.  You  could  simply  disap 
pear,  you  know.  That  is  what  we  intend  to  do." 

"I'll  have  a  cup  of  tea,"  he  said  in  a  strange 
voice.  "Very  strong,  please;  I  seem  rather 
dazed." 

"I  figure  this  way,"  Tish  went  on,  putting 
down  her  revolver  and  taking  up  her  knitting: 
"I  don't  believe  an  ambulance  loaded  with  ciga 
rettes  and  stick  candy  and  chocolate,  with  perhaps 
lemons  for  lemonade,  is  going  to  be  stopped  any 
where  as  long  as  it's  headed  for  the  Front.  I 
understand  they  don't  stop  ambulances  anyhow. 


206  MORE  TISH 


If  they  do  you  can  stretch  out  and  pretend  to 
be  wounded.  This  is  one  way  in  which  you  can 
be  very  useful — being  wounded." 

He  took  all  his  tea  at  a  gulp,  and  then  looked 
round  in  an  almost  distracted  manner. 

"Certainly,"  he  said.  "Of  course.  It's  all  per 
fectly  simple.  You — you  don't  mind,  I  suppose, 
if  I  take  a  moment  to  arrange  my  mind?  It  seems 
to  be  all  mussed  up.  Apparently  I  think  clearly, 
but  somehow  or  other " 

"We  are  actuated  by  several  motives,"  Tish 
went  on,  beginning  to  turn  the  heel  of  the  sock. 
"First  of  all,  my  nephew  is  at  the  Front.  I  want 
to  be  near  him.  I  am  a  childless  woman,  and  he 
is  all  I  have.  Second,  I  fancy  the  more  cigarettes 
and  so  on  our  boys  have  the  better  for  them, 
though  I  disapprove  of  cigarettes  generally.  And 
finally,  I  do  not  intend  to  let  the  biggest  thing  in 
my  lifetime  go  by  without  having  been  a  part  of 
it,  even  in  the  most  humble  manner." 

"Entirely  reasonable  too,"  he  said. 

But  he  still  had  a  strange  expression  on  his 
face,  and  soon  after  that  he  said  he'd  walk  round 
a  little  in  the  air  and  then  come  back  and  tell  us 
his  decision. 

At  five  o'clock  he  was  back  and  he  was  very 
pale  and  wore  what  Aggie  considered  a  haunted 


SALVAGE  207 

look.  He  stalked  in  and  stood,  his  cap  in  his 
hand. 

"I'll  go,"  he  said.  "I'll  go,  and  I  don't  give  a— 
I  don't  care  whether  I  come  back  or  not.  That's 
clear,  isn't  it?  I'll  go  as  far  as  you  will,  Miss 
Tish,  and  I  take  it  that  means  moving  right  along. 
I'll  go  there,  and  then  I'll  keep  on  going." 

"You've  seen  Hilda!"  Aggie  exclaimed  with 
the  intuition  of  her  own  experience  in  matters 
of  the  heart. 

"I've  seen  her,"  he  said  grimly.  "I  wasn't 
looking  for  her.  I've  given  that  up.  She  was 
with  that — well,  you  know.  If  I  had  any  sense 
I'd  have  stolen  those  photographs  and  mailed 
them  to  her,  one  at  a  time.  Five  days,  one  each 
day,  I'd  have " 

"You  might  save  all  that  hate  for  the  Ger 
mans,"  Tish  said.  "I  don't  care  to  promise  any 
thing,  but  I  have  an  idea  that  you  may  have  a 
chance  to  use  it." 

And  again,  as  always,  our  dear  Tish  was  right. 

We  left  Paris  that  evening.  We  made  up  quite 
comfortable  beds  in  the  ambulance,  which  had 
four  new  tires  and  which  Tish  with  her  cus 
tomary  forethought  had  filled  as  full  as  possible 
with  cigarettes  and  candy.  I  have  never  inquired 
as  to  where  Tish  secured  these  articles,  but  I 
have  learned  that  very  early  Tish  adopted  an 


208  MORE  TISH 


army  term  called  salvage,  which  seems  to  con 
sist  of  taking  whatever  is  necessary  wherever  it 
may  be  found.  For  instance,  she  has  always  re 
ferred  to  the  night  when  she  salvaged  the  am 
bulance  and  the  extra  tires;  and  the  night  later 
on,  when  we  found  the  window  of  a  warehouse 
open  and  secured  seven  cases  of  oranges  for 
some  of  our  boys  who  had  no  decent  drinking 
water,  she  also  referred  to  our  actions  at  that 
time  as  salvage. 

In  fact,  so  common  did  the  term  become  that  I 
have  heard  her  speaking  of  the  time  we  salvaged 
the  town  of  V . 

In  re  the  matter  of  passports — in  re  is  also 
military,  and  means  referring  to,  or  concerning; 
I  find  a  certain  tendency  myself  to  use  military 
terms.  In  re  the  matter  of  passports  and  per 
mits,  since  the  authenticity  of  our  adventure  has 
recently  been  challenged  here  at  home,  particu 
larly  in  our  church,  though  we  have  been  life 
long  members,  it  is  a  strange  fact  that  we  never 
required  any.  The  sacred  emblem  on  the  am 
bulance  and  ourselves,  including  Mr.  Burton, 
was  amply  sufficient.  And  though  there  were 
times  when  Mr.  Burton  found  it  expedient  to 
lie  in  the  back  of  the  car  and  emit  slow  and  tor 
tured  groans  I  have  always  contended  that  it  was 


SALVAGE  209 


not  really  necessary  in  the  two  months  which 
followed. 

Over  those  two  months  I  shall  pass  lightly. 
Our  brave  Tish  was  almost  incessantly  at  the 
wheel,  and  we  distributed  uncounted  numbers  of 
cigarettes  and  so  on.  We  had,  naturally,  no 
home  other  than  the  ambulance,  but  owing  to 
Tish's  forethought  we  found,  among  other  ar 
ticles  in  the  secret  compartment  under  the  floor, 
a  full  store  of  canned  goods  and  a  nest  of  cook 
ing  kettles. 

With  this  outfit  we  were  able  to  supplement 
when  necessary  such  provisions  as  we  purchased 
along  the  way,  and  even  now  and  then  to  make 
such  occasional  delicacies  as  cup  cus-tard  or  to 
bake  a  few  muffins  or  small  sweet  cakes.  More 
than  once,  too,  we  have  drawn  up  beside  the  road 
where  troops  were  passing,  and  turned  out  some 
really  excellent  hot  doughnuts  for  them. 

Indeed  I  may  say  that  we  became  quite  well 
known  among  both  officers  and  men,  being  called 
The  Three  Graces. 

But  when  so  many  were  doing  similar  work  on 
a  much  larger  scale  our  poor  efforts  are  hardly 
worthy  of  record.  Only  one  thing  is  significant ! 
We  moved  slowly  but  inevitably  toward  the 
Front,  and  toward  that  portion  of  the  Front 
where  Charlie  Sands  was  serving  his  country. 


210  MORE  TISH 


During  all  this  time  Mr.  Burton  never  men 
tioned  Hilda  but  once,  and  that  was  to  state  that 
he  had  learned  Captain  Weber  was  a  widower. 

"Not  that  it  makes  any  difference  to  me,"  he 
said.  "She  can  marry  him  tomorrow  as  far  as 
I'm  concerned.  I've  forgotten  her,  practically. 
If  I  marry  it  will  be  one  of  these  French  girls. 
They  can  cook  anyhow,  and  she  can't.  Her  idea 
of  a  meal  is  a  plate  of  fudge." 

"He's  really  breaking  his  heart  for  her,"  Aggie 
confided  to  me  later.  "Do  you  notice  how  thin 
he  is?  And  every  time  he  looks  at  the  moon  he 
sighs." 

"So  do  I,"  I  said  tartly;  "and  I'm  not  in  love 
either.  Ever  since  that  moonlight  night  when 
that  fool  of  a  German  flew  over  and  dropped  a 
bomb  onto  the  best  layer  cake  I've  ever  baked 
I've  sighed  at  the  moon  too." 

But  he  was  thinner;  and,  when  the  weather 
grew  cold  and  wet  and  we  suggested  flannels  to 
him  as  delicately  as  possible,  he  refused  to  con 
sider  them. 

"I'd  as  soon  have  pneumonia  as  not,"  he  said. 
"It's  quick  and  easy,  and — anyhow  we  need  them 
to  cover  the  engine  on  cold  nights." 

It  was,  I  believe,  at  the  end  of  the  seventh  week 
that  we  drew  in  one  night  at  a  small  village  within 
sound  of  the  guns.  We  limped  in,  indeed,  for  we 


SALVAGE  211 

had  had  one  of  our  frequent  blowouts,  and  had 
no  spare  tire. 

Scattering  as  was  our  custom,  we  began  a 
search  for  an  extra  tire,  but  without  results. 
There  was  only  one  machine  in  the  town,  and  that 
belonged  to  General  Pershing.  We  knew  it  at 
once  by  the  four  stars.  As  we  did  not  desire  to 
be  interrogated  by  the  commander-in-chief  we 
drew  into  a  small  alleyway  behind  a  ruined  house, 
and  Aggie  and  I  cooked  a  Spanish  omelet  and 
arranged  some  lettuce-and-mayonnaise  sand 
wiches. 

Tish  had  not  returned,  but  Mr.  Burton  came 
back  just  as  I  was  placing  the  meal  on  the  folding 
table  we  carried  for  the  purpose,  and  we  saw  at 
once  that  something  was  wrong.  He  wore  a 
look  he  had  not  worn  since  we  left  Paris. 

"Leg,  probably,"  I  said  in  an  undertone  to 
Aggie.  He  was  subject  to  attacks  of  pain  in  the 
milk  leg. 

But  Aggie's  perceptions  were  more  tender. 

"Hilda,  most  likely,"  she  said. 

However,  we  were  distracted  by  the  arrival  of 
Tish,  who  came  in  with  her  customary  poise  and 
unrolled  her  dinner  napkin  with  a  thoughtful  air. 
She  commented  kindly  on  the  omelet,  but  was 
rather  silent. 

At  the  end  of  the  meal,  however,  she  said: 


212  MORE  TISH 


"If  you  will  walk  up  the  road  past  the  Y.  M. 
C.  A.  hut,  Mr.  Burton,  it  is  just  possible  you 
will  find  an  extra  tire  lying  there.  I  am  not 
positive,  but  I  think  it  likely.  I  should  continue 
walking  until  you  find  it." 

"Must  have  seen  a  rubber  plant  up  that  way," 
Mr.  Burton  said,  rather  disagreeably  for  him. 
He  was  most  pleasant  usually. 

"I  have  simply  indicated  a  possibility,"  Tish 
said.  "Aggie,  I  think  I'll  have  a  small  quantity 
of  blackberry  cordial." 

With  Tish  recourse  to  that  remedy  indicated 
either  fatigue  or  a  certain  nervous  strain.  That 
it  was  the  latter  was  shown  by  the  fact  that  when 
Mr.  Burton  had  gone  she  started  the  engine  of 
the  car  and  suggested  that  we  be  ready  to  leave 
at  a  moment's  notice.  She  then  took  a  folding 
chair  and  placed  herself  in  a  dark  corner  of  the 
ruined  house. 

"If  you  see  the  lights  of  a  car  approaching," 
she  called,  "just  tell  me,  will  you?" 

However,  I  am  happy  to  say  that  no  car  came 
near.  Somewhat  later  Mr.  Burton  appeared  roll 
ing  a  tire  ahead  of  him,  and  wearing  the  dazed 
look  he  still  occasionally  wore  when  confronted 
with  new  evidences  of  Tish's  efficiency. 

"Well,"  he  said,  dropping  the  tire  and  staring 


SALVAGE  213 


at  Aggie  and  myself,  "she  dreamed  true.  Either 
that  or " 

"Mr.  Burton,"  Tish  called,  "do  you  mind  hid 
ing  that  tire  until  morning?  We  found  it  and 
it  is  ours.  But  it's  unnecessary  to  excite  sus 
picion  at  any  time." 

I  am  not  certain  that  Mr.  Burton's  theory  is 
right,  but  even  if  it  is  I  contend  that  war  is  war 
and  justifies  'certain  practices  hardly  to  be  con 
doned  in  times  of  peace. 

Briefly,  he  has  always  maintained  that  Tish 
being  desperate  and  arguing  that  the  C.  in  C. — 
which  is  military  for  commander-in-chief — was 
able  to  secure  tires  whenever  necessary — that 
Tish  had  deliberately  unfastened  a  spare  tire 
from  the  rear  of  General  Pershing's  automobile; 
not  of  course  actually  salvaging  it,  but  leaving  it 
in  a  position  where  on  the  car's  getting  into  mo 
tion  it  would  fall  off  and  could  then  be  salvaged. 

I  do  not  know.  I  do  know,  however,  that  Tish 
retired  very  early  to  her  bed  m  the  ambulance. 
As  Aggie  was  heating  water  for  a  bath,  having 
found  a  sheltered  horse  trough  behind  a  broken 
wall,  I  took  Mr.  Burton  for  a  walk  through  the 
town  in  an  endeavor  to  bring  him  to  a  more  cheer 
ful  frame  of  mind.  He  was  still  very  low-spir 
ited,  but  he  offered  no  confidences  until  we  ap- 


214  MORE  TISH 


preached  the  only  undestroyed  building  in  sight. 
He  stopped  then  and  suggested  turning  back. 

"It's  a  Y  hut,"  he  said.  "We'll  be  about  as 
welcome  there  as  a  skunk  at  a  garden  party." 

I  reprimanded  him  for  this,  as  I  had  found 
no  evidence  of  any  jealousy  between  the  two 
great  welfare  organizations.  But  when  I  per 
sisted  in  advancing  he  said:  "Well,  you  might 
as  well  know  it.  She's  there.  I  saw  her  through 
a  window." 

"What  has  that  got  to  do  with  my  getting  a 
bottle  of  vanilla  extract  there  if  they  have  one?" 

"Oh,  she'll  have  one  probably;  she  uses  it  for 
fudge!  I'm  not  going  there,  and  that's  flat." 

"I  thought  you  had  forgotten  her." 

"I  have!"  he  said  savagely.  "The  way  you 
forget  the  toothache.  But  I  don't  go  round  bor 
ing  a  hole  in  a  tooth  to  get  it  again.  Look  here, 
Miss  Lizzie,  do  you  know  what  she  was  doing 
when  I  saw  her?  She  was  dropping  six  lumps  of 
sugar  into  a  cup  of  something  for  that — that 
parent  she's  gone  bugs  about." 

"That's  what  she's  here  for." 

"Oh,  it  is,  is  it?"  he  snarled.  "Well,  she  wasn't 
doing  it  for  the  fellow  with  a  cauliflower  ear  who 
was  standing  beside  him.  There  was  a  line  of 
about  twenty  fellows  there  putting  in  their  own 
sugar,  all  right." 


SALVAGE  215 


"I'll  tell  you  this,  Mr.  Burton,"  I  said  in  a  seri 
ous  tone,  "sometimes  I  think  things  are  just  as 
well  as  they  are.  You  haven't  a  disposition  for 
marriage.  I  don't  believe  you'll  make  her  happy, 
even  if  you  do  get  her." 

"Oh,  I'll  not  get  her,"  he  retorted  roughly. 
"As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  don't  want  her.  I'm 
cured.  I'm  as  cured  as  a  ham.  She  can  feed 
sugar  to  the  whole  blamed  Army,  as  far  as  I'm 
concerned.  And  after  that  she  can  go  home  and 
feed  sugar  to  his  five  kids,  and  give  'em,  colic 
and  sit  up  at  night  and " 

I  left  him  still  muttering  and  went  into  the  Y 
hut.  Hilda  gave  a  little  scream  of  joy  when  she 
saw  me  and  ran  round  the  counter,  which  was  a 
plank  on  two  barrels,  and  kissed  me.  I  must  say 
she  was  a  nice  little  thing. 

"Isn't  France  small  after  all?"  she  demanded. 
"And  do  you  know  I've  seen  your  nephew — or  is 
it  Miss  Tish's?  He's  just  too  dear!  We  had  a 
long  talk  here  only  a  day  or  two  ago,  and  I  was 
telling  about  you  three,  and  suddenly  he  said: 
'Wait  a  minute.  You've  mentioned  no  names, 
but  I'll  bet  my  tin  hat  my  Aunt  Tish  was  one 
of  them!'  Isn't  that  amazing?" 

Well,  I  thought  it  was,  and  I  took  a  cup  of 
her  coffee.  But  it  was  poor  stuff,  and  right  then 
and  there  I  made  a  kettle  ful  and  showed  her  how. 


216  MORE  TISH 


But  I  noticed  she  grew  rather  quiet  after  a  while. 

At  last  she  said:  "You — I  don't  suppose 
you've  seen  that  Mr.  Burton  anywhere,  have 
you?" 

"We  saw  something  of  him  in  Paris,"  I  replied, 
and  glanced  out  the  window.  He  was  standing 
across  what  had  once  been  the  street,  and  if 
ever  I've  seen  hungry  eyes  in  a  human  being  he 
had  them. 

"He  was  so  awfully  touchy,  Miss  Lizzie,"  she 

said.  "And  then  I  was  never  sure Why 

do  you  suppose  he  isn't  fighting?  Not  that  it's 
any  affair  of  mine,  but  I  used  to  wonder." 

"He's  got  a  milk  leg,"  I  said,  and  set  the  coffee 
kettle  off. 

"A  milk  leg !  A  milk Oh,  how  ridiculous ! 

How Why,  Miss  Lizzie,  how  can  he?" 

"Don't  ask  me.  They  get  'em  sometimes  too. 
They're  very  painful.  My  cousin,  Nancy  Lee 
McMasters,  had  one  after  her  third  child 
and " 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that  here  she  began  to  laugh. 
She  laughed  all  over  the  hut,  really,  and  when 
she  had  stood  up  and  held  to  the  plank  and 
laughed  she  sat  down  on  a  box  of  condensed  milk 
and  laughed  again.  I  am  a  truthful  woman,  and 
I  had  thought  it  was  time  she  knew  the  facts,  but 
I  saw  at  once  that  I  had  make  a  mistake.  And 


SALVAGE  217 

when  I  looked  out  the  window  Mr.  Burton  had 
gone. 

I  remained  there  with  her  for  some  time,  but 
as  any  mention  of  Mr.  Burton  only  started  her 
off  again  we  discussed  other  matters. 

She  said  Charlie  Sands  was  in  the  Intelligence 
Department  at  the  Front,  and  that  when  he  left 
he  was  about  to,  as  she  termed  it,  pull  off  a  raid. 

"He's  gone  to  bring  me  a  German  as  a  sou 
venir;  and  that  Captain  Weber — you  remember 
him — he  is  going  to  bring  me  another,"  she  cried. 
"He  gave  me  my  choice  and  I  took  an  officer,  with 
a  nice  upcurled  mustache  and " 

"And  five  children?" 

"Five  children  ?  Whatever  do  you  mean,  Miss 
Lizzie?" 

"I  understand  that  Captain  Weber  has  five. 
I  didn't  know  but  that  you  had  a  special  prefer 
ence  for  them  that  way." 

"Why,  Miss  Lizzie!"  she  said  in  a  strained 
voice.  "I  don't  believe  it.  He's  never  said 

I  was  washing  out  her  dish  towels  by  that  time, 
for  she  wasn't  much  of  a  housekeeper,  I'll  say 
that,  though  as  pretty  as  a  picture,  and  I  never 
looked  up.  She  walked  round  the  hut,  humming 
to  herself  to  show  how  calm  she  was,  but  I 
noticed  that  when  her  broom  fell  over  she  kicked 
at  it. 


218  MORE  TISH 


Finally  she  said :  "I  don't  know  why  you  think 
I  was  interested  in  Captain  Weber.  He  was 
amusing,  that's  all ;  and  I  like  fighting  men — the 
bravest  are  the  tenderest,  you  know.  I — if  you 
ever  happen  on  Mr.  Burton  you  might  tell  him 
I'm  here.  It's  interesting,  but  I  get  lonely  some 
times.  I  don't  see  a  soul  I  really  care  to  talk  to." 

Well,  I  promised  I  would,  and  as  Mr.  Burton 
had  gone  I  went  back  alone.  Tish  was  asleep 
with  a  hot  stone  under  her  cheek,  from  which  I 
judged  she'd  had  neuralgia,  and  Aggie  was  no 
where  in  sight.  But  round  the  corner  an  am 
munition  train  of  trucks  had  come  in  and  I  sud 
denly  remembered  Aggie  and  her  horse  trough. 
Unfortunately  I  had  not  asked  her  where  it  was. 

I  roused  Tish  but  her  neuralgia  had  ruffled  her 
usual  placid  temper,  and  she  said  that  if  Aggie 
was  caught  in  a  horse  trough  let  her  sit  in  it.  If 
she  could  take  a  bath  in  a  pint  of  water  Aggie 
could,  instead  of  hunting  up  luxuries.  She  then 
went  to  sleep  again,  leaving  me  in  an  anxious 
frame  of  mind. 

Mr.  Burton  was  not  round,  and  at  last  I  started 
out  alone  with  a  flashlight,  but  as  we  were  short 
of  batteries  I  was  too  sparing  of  it  and  stepped 
down  accidentally  into  a  six-foot  cellar,  jarring 
my  spine  badly.  When  I  got  out  at  last  it  was 
very  late,  and  though  there  were  soldiers  all 


SALVAGE  219 


round  I  did  not  like  to  ask  them  to  assist  me  in 
my  search,  as  I  had  every  reason  to  believe  that 
our  dear  Aggie  had  sought  cleanliness  in  her 
nightgown. 

It  was,  I  believe,  fully  2.  A.  M.  when  I  finally 
discovered  her  behind  a  wall,  where  a  number  of 
our  boys  were  playing  a  game  with  a  lantern  and 
dice- — a  game  which  consisted  apparently  of  coax 
ing  the  inanimate  objects  with  all  sorts  of  en 
dearing  terms.  They  got  up  when  they  saw  me, 
but  I  observed  that  I  was  merely  taking  a  walk, 
and  wandered  as  nonchalantly  as  I  was  able  into 
the  inclosure. 

At  first  all  was  dark  and  silent.  Then  I  heard 
the  trickle  of  running  water,  and  a  moment  later 
a  sneeze.  The  lost  was  found! 

'Aggie!"  I  said  sternly. 

"Hush,  for  Heaven's  sake !    They'll  hear  you." 

"Where  are  you?" 

"B-b-behind  the  trough,"  she  said,  her  teeth 
chattering.  "Run  and  get  my  bathrobe,  Lizzie. 
Those  d-d-dratted  boys  have  been  there  for  an 
hour." 

Well,  I  had  brought  it  with  me,  and  she  had 
her  slippers;  and  we  started  back.  I  must  say 
that  Aggie  was  a  strange  figure,  however,  and 
one  of  the  boys  said  after  we  had  passed:  "Well, 
fellows,  war's  hell,  all  right." 


220  MORE  TISH 


"If  you  saw  it  too  I  feel  better,"  said  another. 
"I  thought  maybe  this  frog  liquor  was  doing 
things  to  me." 

Aggie,  however,  was  sneezing  and  did  not 
hear. 

I  come  now  to  that  part  of  my  narrative  which 
relates  to  Charlie  Sands'  raid  and  the  results 
which  followed  it.  I  felt  a  certain  anxiety  about 
telling  Tish  of  the  dangerous  work  in  which  he 
was  engaged,  and  waited  until  her  morning  tea 
had  fortified  her.  She  was,  I  remember,  sitting 
on  a  rock  directing  Mr.  Burton,  who  was  chang 
ing  a  tire. 

"A  raid?"  she  said.    "What  sort  of  a  raid?" 

"To  capture  Germans,  Tish." 

"A  lot  of  chance  he'll  have!"  she  said  with  a 
sniff.  "What  does  he  know  about  raids?  And 
you'd  think  to  hear  you  talk,  "Lizzie,  that  pulling 
Germans  out  of  a  trench  was  as  easy  as  letting  a 
dog  out  after  a  neighbor's  cat.  It's  like  Pershing 
and  all  the  rest  of  them,"  she  added  bitterly,  "to 
take  a  left-handed  newspaper  man,  who  can't 
shut  his  right  eye  to  shoot  with  the  left,  and  start 
him  off  alone  to  take  the  whole  German  Army." 

"He  wouldn't  go  alone,"  said  Mr.  Burton. 

"Certainly  not !"  Tish  retorted.  "I  know  him, 
and  you  don't,  Mr.  Burton.  He'll  not  go  alone. 
Of  course  not!  He'll  pick  out  a  lot  of  men  who 


SALVAGE  221 

play  good  bridge,  or  went  to  college  with  him, 
or  belong  to  his  fraternity,  or  can  sing,  or  some 
such  reason,  and " 

Here  to  my  great  surprise  she  flung  down  one 
of  our  two  last  remaining  teacups  and  retired  pre 
cipitately  into  the  ruins.  Not  for  us  to  witness 
her  majestic  grief.  Rachel — or  was  it  Naomi? — 
mourning  for  her  children. 

However,  in  a  short  time  she  reappeared  and 
stated  that  she  was  sick  of  fooling  round  on 
back  roads,  and  that  we  would  now  go  directly 
to  the  Front. 

"We'll  never  pull  it  off,"  Mr.  Burton  said  to 
me  in  an  undertone. 

"She  has  never  failed,  Mr.  Burton,"  I  re 
minded  him  gravely. 

Before  we  started  Mr.  Burton  saw  Hilda,  but 
he  came  back  looking  morose  and  savage.  He 
came  directly  to  me. 

"Look  me  over,"  he  said.  "Do  I  look  queer 
or  anything?" 

"Not  at  all,"  I  replied. 

"Look  again.  I  don't  seem  to  be  dying  on  my 
feet,  do  I?  Anything  wan  about  me?  I  don't 
totter  with  feebleness,  do  I  ?" 

"You  look  as  strong  as  a  horse,"  I  said  some 
what  acidly. 

"Then  I  wish  to  thunder  you'd  tell  me,"  he 


222  MORE  TISH 


stormed,  "why  that  girl — that — well,  you  know 
who  I  mean — why  the  deuce  she  should  first  gig 
gle  all  over  the  place  when  she  sees  me,  and  then 
baby  me  like  an  idiot  child?  'Here's  a  chair,' 
she'd  say,  and  'Do  be  careful  of  yourself;  and 
when  I  recovered  from  that  enough  to  stand  up 
like  a  man  and  ask  for  a  cup  of  coffee  she  said  I 
ought  to  take  soup;  it  was  strengthening!" 

Fortunately  Tish  gave  the  signal  to  start  just 
then,  and  we  moved  out.  Hilda  was  standing 
in  her  doorway  when  we  passed,  and  I  thought 
she  looked  rather  forlorn.  She  blew  kisses  to 
us,  but  Mr.  Burton  only  saluted  stiffly  and  looked 
away.  I  have  often  considered  that  to  the  un 
initiated  the  ways  of  love  are  very  strange. 

It  was  when  we  were  out  of  the  village  that 
he  turned  to  me  with  a  strange  look  in  his  eyes. 

"She  doesn't  care  for  Weber  after  all,"  he  said. 
"Didn't  I  tell  you  the  minute  she  found  she  could 
have  him  she  wouldn't  want  him  ?  Do  you  think 
I'd  marry  a  girl  like  that?" 

"She's  a  nice  little  thing,"  I  replied.  "But 
you're  perfectly  right — she's  no  housekeeper." 

"No  housekeeper!"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  aston 
ishment.  "That's  the  cleanest  hut  in  France. 
And  let  me  tell  you  I've  had  the  only  cup  of 
coffee " 

He  broke  off  and  fell  into  a  fit  of  abstraction. 


SALVAGE  223 


Somewhat  later  he  looked  up  and  said:  "I'll 
never  see  her  again,  Miss  Lizzie." 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  told  her  I  wouldn't  come  back  until 
I  could  bring  her  a  German  officer  as  a  souvenir. 
Some  idiot  had  told  her  he  was  going  to,  and,  of 
course,  I  told  her  if  she  was  collecting  them  I'd 
get  her  one.  A  fat  chance  I  have  too!  I  don't 
know  what  made  me  do  it.  I'm  only  surprised 
I  didn't  make  it  the  Crown  Prince  while  I  was  at 
it" 

But  how  soon  were  our  thoughts  to  turn  from 
soft  thoughts  of  love  to  graver  matters! 

Tish,  as  I  have  said  before,  has  a  strange  gift 
of  foresight  that  amounts  almost  to  prophecy. 

I  have  never  known  her,  for  instance,  to  put  a 
pink  bow  on  an  afghan  and  then  have  the  subse 
quent  development  turn  out  to  be  a  boy,  or  vice 
versa.  And  the  very  day  before  Mr.  Ostermaier 
fell  and  sprained  his  ankle  she  had  picked  up  a 
roller  chair  at  an  auction  sale,  and  in  twenty  min 
utes  he  was  in  it. 

At  noon  we  stopped  at  a  crossroads  and  dis 
tributed  to  some  passing  troops  our  usual  ciga 
rettes  and  chocolate.  We  also  fried  a  number  of 
doughnuts,  and  were  given  three  cheers  by  vari 
ous  companies  as  they  passed.  It  was  when  our 
labors  were  over  that  Tish  perceived  a  broken 


224  MORE  TISH 


machine  gun  abandoned  by  the  roadside,  and 
spent  some  time  examining  it. 

"One  never  knows,"  she  said,  "what  bits  of 
knowledge  may  one  day  be  useful." 

Mr.  Burton  explained  the  mechanism  to  her. 

"I'd  be  firing  one  of  these  things  now,"  he  said 
gloomily,  "if  it  were  not  for  that  devilish  piece 
of  American  ingenuity,  the  shower  bath." 

"Good  gracious!"  Aggie  said. 

"Fact.  I  got  into  a  machine-gun  school,  but 
one  day  in  a  shower  one  of  the  officers  perceived 
my — er — affliction,  badly  swollen  from  a  hike, 
and  reported  me." 

Tish  was  strongly  inclined  to  tow  the  machine 
gun  behind  us  and  eventually  have  it  repaired, 
but  Mr.  Burton  said  it  was  not  worth  the  trouble, 
and  shortly  afterward  we  turned  off  the  main 
road  into  a  lane,  seeking  a  place  for  our  luncheon. 
Tish  drove  as  usual,  but  she  continued  to  lament 
the  gun. 

"I  feel  keenly,"  she  said,  "the  necessity  of  be 
ing  fully  armed  against  any  emergency.  And  I 
feel,  too,  that  it  is  my  solemn  duty  to  salvage 
such  weapons  as  come  my  way  at  any  and  all 
times." 

I  called  to  her  just  then,  but  she  was  driving 
while  looking  over  her  shoulder  at  Mr.  Burton, 
and  it  was  too  late  to  avoid  the  goat.  We  went 


SALVAGE  225 


over  it  and  it  lay  behind  us  in  the  road  quite  still. 

"You've  killed  it,  Tish,"  I  said. 

"Not  at  all,"  she  retorted.  "It  has  probably 
only  fainted.  As  I  was  saying,  I  feel  that  with 
our  near  approach  to  the  lines  we  should  be 
armed  to  the  teeth  with  modern  engines  of  de 
struction,  and  should  also  know  how  to  use 
them." 

We  were  then  in  a  very  attractive  valley,  and 
Tish  descending  observed  that  if  it  were  not  for 
the  noise  of  falling  shells  and  so  on  it  would  have 
been  a  charming  place  to  picnic. 

She  then  instructed  Aggie  and  me  to  prepare 
a  luncheon  of  beef  croquettes  and  floating  islandr 
and  asked  Mr.  Burton  to  accompany  her  back 
to  the  car. 

As  I  was  sitting  on  the  running  board  beating 
eggs  for  a  meringue  at  the  time  I  could  not  avoid 
overhearing  the  conversation. 

First  Mr.  Burton,  acting  under  orders,  lifted 
the  false  bottom,  and  then  he  whistled  and  ob 
served  :  "Great  Caesar's  ghost !  Looks  as  though 
there  is  going  to  be  hell  up  Sixth  Street, 
doesn't  it?" 

"I'll  ask  you  not  to  be  vulgar,  Mr.  Burton." 

"But— look  here,  Miss  Tish.  We'll  be  jailed 
for  this,  you  know.  You  may  be  able  to  get  away 
with  the  C.  in  C.'s  tires,  but  you  can't  steal  a 


226  MORE  TISH 

hundred  or  so  grenades  without  somebody  miss 
ing  them.  Besides,  what  the — what  the  dickens 
are  you  going  to  do  with  them?  If  it  had  been 
eggs  now,  or  oranges — but  grenades!" 

"They  may  be  useful,"  Tish  replied  in  her  cryp 
tic  manner.  "Forearmed  is  forewarned,  Mr. 
Burton.  What  is  this  white  pin  for?" 

I  believe  she  then  pulled  the  pin,  for  I  heard 
Mr.  Burton  yell,  and  a  second  later  there  was  a 
loud  explosion. 

I  sat  still,  unable  to  move,  and  then  I  heard 
Mr.  Burton  say  in  a  furious  voice:  "If  I  hadn't 
grabbed  that  thing  and  thrown  it  you'd  have  been 
explaining  this  salvage  system  of  yours  to  your 
Maker  before  this,  Miss  Carberry.  Upon  my 
word,  if  I  hadn't  known  you'd  blow  up  the  whole 
outfit  the  moment  I  was  gone  I'd  have  left  before 
this.  I've  got  nerves  if  you  haven't." 

"That  was  an  over-arm  pitch  you  gave  it,"  was 
Tish's  sole  reply.  "I  had  always  understood  that 
grenades  were  thrown  in  a  different  manner." 

I  distinctly  heard  his  groan. 

"You'll  have  about  as  much  use  for  grenades 
as  I  have  for  pink  eye,"  he  said  almost  savagely. 
"I  don't  like  to  criticize,  Miss  Tish,  and  I  must 
say  I  think  to  this  point  we've  made  good.  But 
when  I  see  you  stocking  up  with  grenades  in 
stead  of  cigarettes,  and  giving  every  indication 


SALVAGE  227 


of  being  headed  for  the  Rhine,  I  feel  that  it  is 
time  to  ask  what  next?" 

"Have  you  any  complaint  about  the  last  few 
weeks  ?"  Tish  inquired  coldly. 

"Well,  if  we  continue  to  leave  a  trail  of  dep 
redations  behind  us It's  bad  enough  to  have 

a  certain  person  think  I'm  a  slacker,  but  if  she 
gets  the  idea  that  I'm  a  first-class  second-story 
worker  I'm  done,  that's  all." 

Fortunately  Aggie  announced  luncheon  just 
then. 

Every  incident  of  that  luncheon  is  fixed  clearly 
in  my  mind,  because  of  what  came  after  it.  We 
had  indeed  penetrated  close  to  the  Front,  as  was 
shown  by  the  number  of  shells  which  fell  in  it 
while  we  ate.  The  dirt  from  one,  in  fact,  quite 
spoiled  the  floating  island,  and  we  were  compelled 
to  open  a  can  of  peaches  to  replace  it.  It  was 
while  we  were  drinking  our  after-dinner  coffee 
that  Tish  voiced  the  philosophy  which  upheld  her. 

"When  my  hour  comes  it  will  come,"  she  said 
calmly.  "Viewed  from  that  standpoint  the  at 
tempts  of  the  enemy  to  disturb  us  become  amus 
ing — nothing  more." 

"Exactly,"  said  Mr.  Burton,  skimming  some 
dust  from  the  last  explosion  out  of  his  coffee  cup. 
"Amusing  is  the  word.  Funny,  I  call  it.  Funny 
as  a  crutch.  Why,  look  who's  here!" 


228  MORE  TISH 


There  was  a  young  officer  riding  up  the  valley 
rapidly.  I  remember  Tish  taking  a  look  at  him 
and  then  saying  quickly:  "Lizzie,  go  and  close 
the  floor  of  the  ambulance.  Don't  run.  I'll 
explain  later." 

Well,  the  officer  rode  up  and  jumped  off  his 
horse  and  saluted. 

"Some  of  our  fellows  said  you  were  trapped 
here,  Miss  Carberry,"  he  said.  "I  didn't  believe 
it  at  first.  It's  a  bad  place.  We'll  have  to  get 
you  out  somehow." 

"I'm  not  anxious  to  get  out." 

"But,"  he  said,  and  stared  at  all  of  us — "you 

are Do  you  know  that  our  trenches  are  just 

beyond  this  hill?" 

"I  wish  you'd  tell  the  Germans  that;  they  seem 
to  think  they  are  in  this  valley." 

He  laughed  a  little  and  said :  "They  ought  to 
make  you  a  general,  Miss  Carberry."  He  then 
said  to  Mr.  Burton:  "I'd  like  to  speak  to  you 
for  a  moment." 

Looking  back  I  believe  that  Tish  had  a  pre 
monition  of  trouble  then,  for  during  their  con 
versation  aside  she  got  out  her  knitting,  always 
with  her  an  indication  of  perturbation  or  of  deep 
thought,  and  she  spoke  rather  sharply  to  Aggie 
about  rinsing  the  luncheon  dishes  more  thor 
oughly.  Aggie  said  afterward  that  she  herself 


SALVAGE  229 


had  felt  at  that  time  that  peculiar  itching  in  the 
palms  of  her  hands  which  always  with  her  pre 
sages  bad  news. 

"If  he  asks  about  those  grenades,  Lizzie,  you 
can  reply.  Say  you  don't  know  anything  about 
them.  That's  the  truth." 

"I  know  where  they  are,"  I  said  with  some 
acidity.  "And  what's  more,  I  know  I'm  not  going 
to  ride  a  foot  in  that  ambulance  with  that  con 
centrated  extract  of  hell  under  my  feet." 

"Lizzie " 

She  began  sternly,  but  just  then  the  two  men 
came  back,  and  the  officer's  face  was  uncom 
fortable. 

"I — from  your  demeanor,"  he  said,  "and — er 
— the  fact  that  you  haven't  mentioned  it  I  rather 
gather  that  you  have  not  heard  the  er — the  news, 
Miss  Carberry." 

"I  didn't  see  the  morning  papers,"  Tish  said 
with  the  dry  wit  so  characteristic  of  her. 

"You  have  a  nephew,  I  understand,  at  the 
Front?" 

Tish's  face  suddenly  grew  set  and  stern. 

"Have — or  had?"  she  asked  in  a  terrible  voice. 

"Oh,  it's  not  so  bad  as  all  that.  In  fact,  he's  a 
lot  safer  just  now  than  you  are,  for  instance.  But 
it's  rather  unfortunate  in  a  way  too.  He  has  been 
captured  by  the  enemy." 


230  MORE  TISH 


Aggie  ran  to  her  then  with  the  blackberry  cor 
dial,  but  Tish  waved  her  away. 

"A  prisoner!"  she  said.  "A  nephew  of  mine 
has  allowed  himself  to  be  captured  by  the  Ger 
mans?  It  is  incredible!" 

"Lots  of  us  are  doing  it,"  he  said.  "It's  no 
disgrace.  In  fact,  it's  a  mark  of  courage.  A  fel 
low  goes  farther  than  he  ought  to,  and  the  first 
thing  he  knows  he's  got  a  belt  of  bayonet  points, 
and  it  is  a  time  for  discretion." 

"Leave  me,  please,"  Tish  said  majestically.  "I 
am  ashamed.  I  am  humbled.  I  must  think." 

Shortly  after  that  she  called  us  back  and  said: 
"I  have  come  to  this  conclusion:  The  situation 
is  unbearable  and  must  be  rectified.  Do  you 
know  where  he  is  enduring  this  shameful 
captivity?" 

"I  wouldn't  take  it  too  hard,  Miss  Tish,"  said 
the  officer.  "He's  very  comfortable,  as  we  hap 
pen  to  know.  One  of  our  runners  got  back  at 
dawn  this  morning.  He  said  he  left  your  nephew 

in  the  church  at  V ,  playing  pinochle  with 

the  German  C.  O.  The  runner  was  hidden  in 
the  cellar  under  the  church,  and  he  said  the  C.  O. 
had  lost  all  his  money  and  his  Iron  Cross,  and 
was  going  to  hold  Captain  Sands  until  he  could 
win  them  back." 

He  then  urged  her,  the  moment  night  fell,  to 


SALVAGE  231 


retire  from  our  dangerous  position,  and  to  feel 
no  anxiety  whatever. 

"If  I  know  him,"  were  his  parting  words,  "he'll 
pick  that  German  as  clean  as  a  chicken.  Pinochle 
will  win  the  war,"  he  added  and  rode  away. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon  Tish 
sat  by  herself,  knitting  and  thinking.  It  was 
undoubtedly  then  that  she  formed  the  plan  which 
in  its  execution  has  brought  us  so  much  hateful 

publicity,  yet  without  which  the  town  of  V 

might  still  be  in  German  hands. 


II 

WE  knew,  of  course,  that  Tish's  fine  brain 
was  working  on  the  problem  of  rescuing 
Charlie  Sands ;  and  Mr.  Burton  was  on  the  whole 
rather  keen  about  it. 

"I've  got  to  get  a  German  officer  some  way," 
he  said.  "She's  probably  planning  now  to  see 
Von  Hindenburg  about  Sands.  She  generally 
aims  high,  I've  discovered.  And  in  that  case  I 
rather  fancy  myself  taking  the  old  chap  back  to 
Hilda  as  a  souvenir."  He  then  reflected  and 
scowled.  "But  she'd  be  flirting  with  him  in  ten 
minutes,  damn  her!"  he  added. 

Tish  refused  both  sympathy  and  conversation 
during  the  afternoon. 

On  Aggie's  offering  her  both  she  merely  said : 
"Go  away  and  leave  me  alone,  for  Heaven's  sake. 
He  is  perfectly  safe.  I  only  hope  he  took  his 
toothbrush,  that's  all." 

It  is  a  proof  of  Tish's  gift  of  concentration  that 
she  thought  out  her  plan  so  thoroughly  under 
the  circumstances,  for  the  valley  was  shelled  all 
that  afternoon.  We  found  an  abandoned  battery 

position  and  the  three  of  us  took  refuge  in  it, 

232 


SALVAGE  233 


leaving  Tish  outside  knitting  calmly.  It  was  a 
poor  place,  but  by  taking  in  our  folding  table  and 
chairs  we  made  it  fairly  comfortable,  and  Mr. 
Burton  taught  us  a  most  interesting  game  of 
cards,  in  which  one  formed  pairs  and  various 
combinations,  and  counted  with  coffee  beans.  If 
one  had  four  of  any  one  kind  one  took  all  the 
beans. 

It  was  dusk  when  Tish  appeared  in  the  door 
way,  and  we  noticed  that  she  wore  a  look  of  grim 
determination. 

"I  have  been  to  the  top  of  the  hill,"  she  said, 
"and  I  believe  that  I  know  now  the  terrain  thor 
oughly.  In  case  my  first  plan  fails  we  may  be 
compelled  to  desperate  measures — but  I  find  my 
present  situation  intolerable.  Never  before  has 
a  member  of  my  family  been  taken  by  an  enemy. 
We  die,  but  we  do  not  surrender." 

"You  can  speak  for  your  own  family,  then," 
Aggie  said.  "I've  got  a  family,  too,  but  it's  got 
sense  enough  to  surrender  when  necessary.  And 
if  you  think  Libby  Prison  was  any  treat  to  my 
grand  father " 

Tish  ignored  her. 

"It  is  my  intention,"  she  went  on,  "to  appeal  to 
the  general  of  his  division  to  rescue  my  nephew 
and  thus  wipe  out  the  stain  on  the  family  honor, 
Failing  that,  I  am  prepared  to  go  to  any  length/' 


234  MORE  TISH 


Here  she  eyed  Aggie  coldly.  "It  is  no  time  for 
craven  spirits,"  she  said.  "We  may  be  arrested 
and  court-martialed  for  being  so  near  the  Front, 
to  say  nothing  of  what  may  eventuate  in  case  of 
a  refusal.  I  intend  to  leave  no  stone  unturned, 
but  I  think  it  only  fair  to  ask  for  a  vote  of  con 
fidence.  Those  in  the  affirmative  will  please  sig 
nify  by  saying  'aye.' ' 

"Aye,"  I  said  stoutly.  I  would  not  fail  my  dear 
Tish  in  such  a  crisis.  Aggie  followed  me  a  mo 
ment  later,  but  feebly,  and  Mr.  Burton  said :  "I 
don't  like  the  idea  any  more  than  I  do  my  right 
eye.  Why  bother  with  the  general?  I'm  for 

going  to  V and  breaking  up  the  pinochle 

game,  and  bringing  home  the  bacon  in  the  shape 
of  a  Hun  or  two." 

However,  I  have  reason  to  think  that  he  was 
joking,  and  that  subsequent  events  startled  him 
considerably,  for  I  remember  that  when  it  was 
all  over  and  we  were  in  safety  once  again  he  kept 
saying  over  and  over  in  a  dazed  voice:  "Well, 
can  you  beat  it?  Can  you  beat  it?" 

In  some  way  Tish  had  heard,  from  a  battery 
on  the  hill,  I  think,  that  headquarters  was  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill  on  the  other  side.  She  made  her 
plans  accordingly. 

"As  soon  as  darkness  has  fallen,"  she  said  to 
Mr.  Burton,  "we  three  women  shall  visit  the  com- 


SALVAGE  235 

manding  officer  and  there  make  our  plea — with 
out  you,  as  it  will  be  necessary  to  use  all  the  sof 
tening  feminine  influence  possible.  One  of  two 
things  will  then  occur:  Either  he  will  rescue  my 
nephew  or — I  shall." 

"Now  see  here,  Miss  Tish,"  he  protested, 
"you're  not  going  to  leave  me  out  of  it  altogether, 
are  you?  You  wouldn't  break  my  heart,  would 
you?  Besides,  you'll  need  me.  I'm  a  specialist 
at  rescuing  nephews.  I — I've  rescued  thousands 
of  nephews  in  my  time." 

Well,  she'd  marked  out  a  place  that  would  have 
been  a  crossroads  if  the  German  shells  had  left 
any  road,  and  she  said  if  she  failed  with  the  C.  O. 
he  was  to  meet  us  there,  with  two  baskets  of 
cigarettes  for  the  men  in  the  trenches. 

"Cigarettes!"  he  said.  "What  help  will  they 
be  against  the  enemy?  Unless  you  mean  to  wait 
until  they've  smoked  themselves  to  death." 

"Underneath  the  cigarettes,"  Tish  went  on 
calmly,  "you  will  have  a  number  of  grenades.  If 
only  we  could  repair  that  machine  gun!"  she  re 
flected.  "I  dare  say  I  can  salvage  an  automatic 
rifle  or  two,"  she  finished;  "though  large-sized 
firecrackers  would  do.  The  real  thing  is  to  make 
a  noise." 

"We  might  get  some  paper  bags  and  burst 
them,"  suggested  Mr.  Burton;  "and  if  you  feel 


236  MORE  TISH 


that  music  would  add  to  the  martial  effect  I  can 
play  fairly  well  on  a  comb." 

It  was  perhaps  nine  o'clock  when  we  reached 
the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  had  Tish  not  thought 
fully  brought  her  wire  cutters  along  I  do  not  be 
lieve  we  would  have  succeeded  in  reaching  head 
quarters.  We  got  there  finally,  however,  and  it 
was  in  a  cellar  and — though  I  do  not  care  to  re 
flect  on  our  gallant  army — not  as  tidy  as  it  should 
have  been.  Mr.  Burton  having  remained  behind 
temporarily  the  three  of  us  made  our  way  to  the 
entrance,  and  Tish  was  almost  bayoneted  by  a 
sentry  there,  who  was  nervous  because  of  a  num 
ber  of  shells  falling  in  the  vicinity. 

"Take  that  thing  away !"  she  said  with  superb 
scorn,  pointing  to  the  bayonet.  "I  don't  want  a 
hole  in  the  only  uniform  I've  got,  young  man. 
Watch  your  head,  Lizzie !" 

"The  saints  protect  us!"  said  the  sentry. 
"Women!  Three  women!" 

Tish  and  I  went  down  the  muddy  incline  into 
the  cellar,  and  two  officers  who  were  sitting  there 
playing  cribbage  looked  at  us  and  then  stood  up 
with  a  surprised  expression. 

Tish  had  assumed  a  most  lofty  attitude,  and 
picking  out  the  general  with  an  unfailing  eye  she 
saluted  and  said :  "Only  the  most  urgent  matters 
would  excuse  my  intrusion,  sir.  I " 


SALVAGE  237 


Unfortunately  at  that  moment  Aggie  slipped 
and  slid  into  the  room  feet  first  in  a  sitting  pos 
ture.  She  brought  up  rather  dazed  against  the 
table,  and  for  a  moment  both  officers  were  too 
surprised  to  offer  her  any  assistance.  Tish  and 
I  picked  her  up,  and  she  fell  to  sneezing  violently, 
so  that  it  was  some  time  before  the  conversa 
tion  was  resumed.  It  was  the  general  who  re 
sumed  it. 

"This  is  very  flattering,"  he  said  in  a  cold  voice, 
"but  if  you  ladies  will  explain  how  you  got  here 
I'll  make  it  interesting  for  somebody." 

Suddenly  the  colonel  who  was  with  him  said: 
"Suffering  Crimus!  It  can't  be!  And  yet — it 
certainly  is!" 

We  looked  at  him,  and  it  was  the  colonel  who 
had  been  so  interested  in  Charlie  Sands  at  the 
training  camp.  We  all  shook  hands  with  him, 
and  he  offered  us  chairs,  and  said  to  the  general : 
"These  are  the  ladies  I  have  told  you  about,  sir, 
with  the  nephew.  You  may  recall  the  helpful 
suggestions  sent  to  the  Secretary  of  War  and 
forwarded  back  to  me  by  the  General  Staff.  I 
have  always  wanted  to  explain  about  those  dish 
towels,  ladies.  You  see,  you  happened  on  us  at 
a  bad  time.  Our  dish  towels  had  come,  but 
though  neatly  hemmed  they  lacked  the  small  tape 


238  MORE  TISH 


in  the  corner  by  which  to  hang  them  up.  I 
therefore " 

"Oh,  keep  still!"  said  the  general  in  an  angry 
tone.  "Now,  what  brings  you  women  here?" 

"My  nephew  has  been  taken  prisoner,"  Tish 
said  coldly.  "I  want  to  know  merely  whether  you 
propose  to  do  anything  about  it  or  intend  to  sit 
here  in  comfort  and  do  nothing." 

He  became  quite  red  in  the  face  at  this  allusion 
to  the  cribbage  board,  et  cetera,  and  at  first 
seemed  unable  to  speak. 

"Quietly,  man,"  said  the  colonel.  "Remember 
your  blood  pressure." 

"Damn  my  blood  pressure!"  said  the  general 
in  a  thick  tone. 

I  must  refuse  to  relate  the  conversation  that 
followed — hardly  conversation,  indeed,  as  at  the 
end  the  general  did  all  the  talking. 

At  last,  however,  he  paused  for  breath,  and 
Tish  said  very  quietly :  "Then  I  am  to  understand 
that  you  refuse  to  do  anything  about  my 
nephew  ?" 

"Who  is  your  nephew?" 

"Charlie  Sands." 

"And  who's  Charlie  Sands?" 

"My  nephew,"  said  Tish. 

He  said  nothing  to  this,  but  shouted  abruptly 


SALVAGE  239 


in  a  loud  voice:  "Orderly!  Raise  that  curtain 
and  let  some  air  into  this  rat  hole." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  colonel  and  said: 
"Thompson,  you're  younger  than  I  am.  I've  got 
a  family,  and  my  blood  pressure's  high.  I'm 
going  out  to  make  a  tour  of  the  observation 
posts." 

"Coward!"  said  the  colonel  to  him  in  a  low 
tone. 

The  colonel  was  very  pleasant  to  us  when  the 
other  man  had  gone.  The  general  was  his  broth 
er-in-law,  he  said,  and  rather  nervous  because 
they  hadn't  had  a  decent  meal  for  a  week. 

"The  only  thing  that  settles  his  nerves  is  crib- 
bage,"  he  explained.  "It  helps  his  morale.  Now 
— let  us  think  about  getting  you  back  to  safety. 
I'd  offer  you  our  humble  hospitality,  but  some 
body  got  in  here  today  and  stole  the  duckboard 
I've  been  sleeping  on,  and  I  can't  offer  you  the 
general's  cellar  door.  He's  devoted  to  it." 

"What  if  we  refuse  to  go  back?"  Tish  de 
manded.  "We've  taken  a  risky  trip  for  a  pur 
pose,  and  I  don't  give  up  easily,  young  man.  I'm 
inclined  to  sit  here  until  that  general  promises  to 
do  something." 

His  face  changed. 

"Oh,  now  see  here,"  he  said  in  an  appealing 
voice,  "you  aren't  going  to  make  things  difficult 


;MO  MORE  TISH 


for  me,  are  you?  There's  a  regulation  against 
this  sort  of  thing." 

"We  are  welfare  workers,"  Tish  said  calmly. 
"Behind  us  there  stand  the  entire  American  peo 
ple.  If  kept  from  the  front  trenches  while  trying 
to  serve  our  boys  there  are  ways  of  informing 
the  people  through  the  press." 

"It's  exactly  the  press  I  fear,"  he  said  in  a  sad 
voice.  "Think  of  the  results  to  you  three,  and 
to  me." 

"What  results?"  Tish  demanded  impatiently. 
"I'm  not  doing  anything  I'm  ashamed  of." 

He  was  abstractedly  moving  the  cribbage  pins 
about. 

"It's  like  this,"  he  said :  "Not  very  far  behind 
the  lines  there  are  a  lot  of  newspaper  correspond 
ents,  and  lately  there  hasn't  been  much  news.  But 
perhaps  I'd  better  explain  my  own  position.  I 
am  engaged  to  a  lovely  girl  at  home.  I  write  to 
her  every  day,  but  I  have  been  conscious  recently 
that  in  her  replies  to  me  there  has  been  an  ele 
ment  of — shall  I  say  suspicion?  No,  that  is  not 
the  word.  Anxiety — of  anxiety,  lest  I  shall  fall 
in  love  with  some  charming  Red  Cross  or  Y.  M. 
C.  A.  girl.  Nothing  could  be  further  from  my 
thoughts,  but  you  can  see  my  situation.  Three 
feminine  visitors  at  nightfall;  news-hungry  cor- 


SALVAGE  241 


respondents;  all  the  rest  of  it.  Scandal,  dear 
ladies!  And  absolute  ruin  to  my  hopes!" 

"Bosh!"  said  Tish.  But  I  could  see  that  she 
was  uncomfortable.  "If  there's  trouble  I'll  send 
her  our  birth  certificates.  Besides,  I  thought  you 
said  the  general  was  your  brother-in-law?" 

Aggie  says  he  changed  color  at  that  but  he 
said  hastily:  "By  marriage,  madam,  only  by 
marriage.  By  -that  I  mean — I — he — the  general 
is  married  to  my  brother." 

"Really !"  said  Tish.    "How  unusual !" 

She  said  afterward  that  she  saw  at  once  then 
that  we  were  only  wasting  time,  and  that  neither 
one  of  them  would  move  hand  or  foot  to  get 
Charlie  Sands  back.  Aggie  had  been  scraping 
her  skirt  with  a  table  knife,  and  was  now  fairly 
tidy,  so  Tish  prepared  to  depart. 

"On  thinking  it  over,"  she  said,  "I  realize  that 
I  am  confronting  a  situation  which  requires 
brains  rather  than  brute  force.  I  shall  therefore 
attend  to  it  myself.  Good  night,  colonel.  I  hope 
you  find  another  duckboard.  And — if  you  are 
writing  home  present  my  compliments  to  the  gen 
eral's  husband.  Come,  Aggie." 

At  the  top  of  the  incline  I  looked  back.  The 
colonel  was  staring  after  us  and  wiping  his  fore 
head  with  a  khaki  handkerchief. 

"You  see,"  Tish  said  bitterly,  "that  is  the  sort 


242  MORE  TISH 


of  help  one  gets  from  the  Army."  She  drew  a 
deep  breath  and  looked  in  the  general  direction 
of  the  trenches.  "One  thing  is  sure  and  certain 
— I'm  not  going  back  until  I've  found  out  whether 
Charlie  Sands  is  still  in  that  town  over  there  or 
whether  he  has  been  taken  away  so  we'll  have  to 
get  at  him  from  Switzerland." 

Aggie  gave  a  low  moan  at  this,  and  Tish  eyed 
her  witheringly. 

"Don't  be  an  idiot,  Aggie!"  she  observed.  "I 
haven't  asked  you  to  go — or  Lizzie  either.  I'd  be 
likely,"  she  added,  "to  get  through  our  lines  un 
seen  and  into  the  very  midst  of  the  German  Army 
— with  one  of  you  sneezing  with  hay  fever  and 
the  other  one  panting  like  a  locomotive  from  too 
much  flesh." 

"Tish "  I  began  firmly.  But  she  waved 

her  hand  in  silence  and  demanded  Aggie's  flash 
light.  She  then  led  the  way  behind  the  ruins  of 
a  wall  and  took  a  bundle  of  papers  from  under 
her  jacket. 

"If  the  Army  won't  help  us  we  have  a  right 
to  help  ourselves,"  she  observed.  And  I  per 
ceived  with  a  certain  trepidation  that  the  papers 
were  some  that  had  been  lying  on  the  table  at 
headquarters. 

"  'Memorandum,' '  Tish  read  the  top  one. 
"  'Write  home.  Order  boots.  Send  to  British 


SALVAGE  243 


Commissary  for  Scotch  whisky.  Insect  pow 
der!'  Wouldn't  you  know,"  she  said  bitterly, 
"that  that  general  would  have  to  make  a  mem 
orandum  about  writing  home?" 

Underneath,  however,  there  was  an  aeroplane 

picture  of  the  Front  and  V ,  and  also  a  map. 

Both  of  these  she  studied  carefully  until  several 
bullets  found  their  way  to  our  vicinity,  and  a 
sentry  ran  up  and  was  very  rude  about  the  light. 
On  receiving  a  box  of  cigarettes,  however,  he 
became  quite  friendly. 

"Haven't  had  a  pill  for  a  week,"  he  said.  "Got 
to  a  point  now  where  we  steal  the  hay  from  the 
battery  horses  and  roll  it  up  in  leaves  from  my 
Bible.  But  it  isn't  really  satisfying." 

Tish  gave  him  a  brief  lecture  on  thus  mutilat 
ing  his  best  friend,  but  he  said  that  he  only  used 
the  unimportant  pages.  "You  know,"  he  ex 
plained — "somebody  begat  somebody  else,  and 
that  sort  of  thing.  You  haven't  any  more  fags 
about  you,  have  you?"  he  asked  wistfully.  "I'll 
be  sandbagged  and  robbed  if  I  go  back  without 
any  for  the  other  fellows." 

"We  can  bring  some,"  Tish  suggested,  "and 
you  might  show  us  to  the  trenches.  I  particularly 
wish  to  give  some  to  the  men  in  the  most  ad 
vanced  positions." 

"You're  on,"  he  said  cheerfully.     "Bring  the 


244  MORE  TISH 


life  savers,  and  we'll  see  that  you  get  forward 
all  right." 

Tish  reflected. 

"Suppose,"  she  said  at  last — "suppose  that  we 
wish  to  be  able  on  returning  to  our  native  land 
to  state  that  we  have  not  only  been  to  our  ad 
vanced  positions  but  have  even  made  a  short  ex 
cursion  into  the  debatable  territory — that  is,  into 
what  is  commonly  known  as  No  Man's  Land?" 

"All  of  you?"  he  asked  doubtfully. 

"All  of  us." 

He  then  considered  and  said:  "How  many 
cigarettes  have  you  got?" 

"About  a  hundred  packages,"  Tish  replied. 
"Say,  five  to  you,  and  the  rest  used  where  con 
sidered  most  efficacious." 

"Every  man  has  his  price,"  he  observed. 
"That's  mine.  I'm  taking  a  chance,  but  I've  seen 
you  round,  so  I  know  you're  not  spies.  And  if 
you  get  an  extra  helmet  out  there  you  might  give 
me  one.  I've  been  here  six  months  and  I've 
never  seen  one,  on  a  German  or  off.  I  let  a 
woman  reporter  through  last  week,"  he  added, 
"and  d'you  think  she  thanked  me?  No.  She 
gave  me  hell  because  the  Germans  had  a  raid 
that  night  and  nearly  got  her.  I'm  a  soldier,  not 
a  prophet." 

Tish  left  us  immediately  to  go  back  to  Mr. 


SALVAGE  245 


Burton,  and  Aggie  clutched  at  my  arm  in  a  frenzy 
of  anxiety. 

"She's  going  to  do  it,  Lizzie!"  she  said  with 

her  teeth  chattering.  "She's  going  to  V to 

rescue  Charlie  Sands,  and  we'll  all  be  caught,  and 
— Lizzie,  I  feel  that  I  shall  never  see  home  again." 

"Well,  if  you  ask  me,  I  don't  think  you  will," 
I  said  as  calmly  as  possible.  Aggie  put  her  head 
on  my  shoulder  and  wept  between  sneezes. 

"I  know  I'm  weak,  Lizzie,"  she  moaned,  "but 
I'm  frightened,  and  I'm  not  afraid  to  say  so. 
You'd  think  she  only  had  to  shoo  those  Ger 
mans  like  a  lot  of  chickens.  I  love  Tish,  but  if 
she'd  only  sprain  her  ankle  or  something!" 

However,  Tish  came  back  soon,  bringing  Mr. 
Burton  with  her  and  two  baskets  with  cigarettes 
on  top  and  grenades  below,  and  also  our  revolv 
ers  and  a  supply  of  extra  cartridges.  She  had 
not  explained  her  plan  to  Mr.  Burton,  so  we 
sat  down  behind  the  wall  and  she  told  him.  He 
seemed  quite  willing  and  cheerful. 

"Certainly,"  he  said.  "It  is  all  quite  clear.  We 
simply  go  into  No  Man's  Land  for  souvenirs,  and 
they  pass  us.  Perfectly  natural,  of  course.  We 
then  continue  to  advance  to  the  German  lines, 
and  then  commit  suicide.  I've  been  thinking  of 
doing  it  for  some  time  anyhow,  and  this  way 
has  an  element  of  the  dramatic  that  appeals  to 


246  MORE  TISH 


me."  I  have  learned  since  that  he  felt  that  the 
only  thing  to  do  was  to  humor  Tish,  and  that  he 
was  convinced  that  about  a  hundred  yards  in  No 
Man's  Land  would  hurt  no  one,  and,  as  he  ex 
pressed  it,  clear  the  air.  How  little  he  knew  our 
dear  Tish ! 

As  it  is  not  my  intention  to  implicate  any  of 
those  brave  boys  who  sought  to  give  us  merely 
the  innocent  pleasure  of  visiting  the  strip  of 
land  between  the  two  armies  I  shall  draw  a  veil 
over  our  excursion  through  the  trenches  that 
night,  where  we  were  met  everywhere  with  ac 
claim  and  gratitude,  and  finally  assisted  out  of 
the  trenches  by  means  of  a  ladder.  As  it  was 
quite  dark  the  grenades  in  the  basket  entirely 
escaped  notice,  and  we  found  ourselves  at  last 
headed  toward  the  German  lines,  and  fully  armed, 
though  looking,  as  Mr.  Burton  observed,  like  a 
picnic  party. 

He  persisted  in  making  humorous  sallies  such 
as:  "Did  any  one  remember  the  pepper  and 
salt?"  and  "I  hope  somebody  brought  pickles. 
What's  a  picnic  without  pickles?" 

I  regret  to  say  that  we  were  fired  on  by  some 
of  our  own  soldiers  who  didn't  understand  the 
situation,  shortly  after  this,  and  that  the  bottle 
of  blackberry  cordial  which  I  was  carrying  was 
broken  to  fragments. 


SALVAGE  247 

"If  they  hit  this  market  basket  there'll  be  a 
little  excitement,"  Mr.  Burton  said.  He  then 
stopped  and  said  that  a  joke  was  a  joke,  but 
there  was  such  a  thing  as  carrying  it  too  far,  and 
that  we'd  better  look  for  a  helmet  or  two  and 
then  go  back. 

"The  Germans  are  just  on  the  other  side  of 
that  wood,"  he  whispered ;  "and  they  don't  know 
a  joke  when  they  see  one." 

"I  thought,  Mr.  Burton,  you  promised  to  take 
Hilda  a  German  officer,"  Tish  said  scornfully. 

"I  did,"  he  agreed.  "I  did  indeed.  But  now  I 
think  of  it,  I  didn't  promise  her  a  live  one.  The 
more  I  consider  the  matter  the  more  I  am  sure 
that  no  stipulation  was  made  as  to  the  conditions 
of  delivery.  I " 

But  when  he  saw  Tish  continuing  to  advance 
he  became  very  serious,  and  even  suggested  that 
if  we  would  only  go  back  he  would  himself  ad 
vance  as  far  as  possible  and  endeavor  to  reach 
V . 

Just  what  Tish's  reply  would  have  been  I  do 
not  know,  as  at  that  moment  Aggie  stumbled  and 
fell  into  a  deep  shell  hole  full  of  water.  We 
heard  the  splash  and  waited  for  her  voice,  as  we 
were  uncertain  of  her  exact  position. 

But  what  was  our  surprise  on  hearing  a  deep 


248  MORE  TISH 


masculine  voice  say:  "Hands  up,  you  dirty 
swine !" 

"Let  go  of  me,"  came  in  piteous  accents  from 
Aggie. 

There  was  then  complete  silence,  until  the  other 
voice  said:  "Well,  I'll  be  damned!"  It  then 
said:  "Bill,  Bill!" 

"Here,"  said  still  another  voice,  a  short  dis 
tance  away,  in  a  sort  of  loud  whisper. 

"There's  a  mermaid  in  my  pool,"  said  the  first 
voice.  "Did  you  draw  anything?" 

"Lucky  devil,"  said  the  other  voice.  "I'm 
drawing  about  eight  feet  of  water,  that's  all." 

Tish  then  advanced  in  the  direction  of  the 
voices  and  said:  "Aggie,  are  you  all  right?" 

"I'm  half  drowned.    And  there's  a  man  here." 

The  first  voice  then  said  in  an  aggrieved  man 
ner  :  "This  is  my  puddle,  you  know,  lady.  And 
if  my  revolver  wasn't  wet  through  I'm  afraid 
there  would  be  one  mermaid  less,  or  whatever 
you  are." 

The  Germans  at  that  moment  sent  up  one  of 
their  white  lights,  which  resemble  certain  of  our 
Fourth  of  July  pieces,  which  float  a  long  time 
and  give  the  effect  of  full  moonlight. 

"Down,"  said  Mr.  Burton,  and  we  all  fell  flat 
on  our  faces.  Before  doing  so,  however,  we  had 
a  short  glimpse  of  Aggie's  head  and  another 


SALVAGE  249 


above  the  water  in  the  shell  hole,  and  realized 
that  her  position  was  very  uncomfortable. 

When  the  light  died  away  the  two  men 
emerged,  and  with  some  difficulty  dragged  her 
out.  It  was  while  this  was  going  on  that  Tish 
caught  my  arm  and  whispered:  "Lizzie,  I  have 
heard  that  voice  before." 

Well,  it  had  a  familiar  sound  to  me  also,  and 
when  he  addressed  the  other  man  as  Grogan  I 
suddenly  remembered.  It  was  the  man  we  had 
thrown  from  the  ambulance  in  Paris  the  night 
Tish  salvaged  it!  I  told  Tish  in  a  whisper,  and 
she  remembered  the  incident  clearly. 

"You  sure  gave  me  a  scare,"  he  said  to  Aggie. 
"For  if  you  were  a  German  I  was  gone,  and  if 
you  were  an  officer  of  the  A.  E.  F.  I  was  gone 
more.  Bill  and  I  just  slipped  out  to  take  a  look 
round  the  town  behind  those  woods,  account  of 
our  captain  being  a  prisoner  there." 

"Who  is  your  captain?"  Tish  asked. 

"Name's  Weber.  We  pulled  off  a  raid  last 
night,  and  he  and  a  fellow  named  Sands  got 
grabbed." 

"Weber?"  said  Mr.  Burton,  forgetting  to 
whisper. 

"You — you  don't  mean  Captain  Weber?"  I 
asked  after  a  sickening  pause. 

"That's  the  man." 


250  MORE  TISH 


"Oh,  dear!"  said  Aggie. 

Suddenly  Mr.  Burton  stopped  and  put  down 
the  basket  of  grenades. 

"I'm  damned  if  I'm  going  to  rescue  him!"  he 
said  firmly.  "Now  look  here,  Miss  Tish,  I  hate 
to  disappoint  you,  but  I've  got  private  reasons 
for  leaving  Weber  exactly  where  he  is. 

"I  don't  wish  him  any  harm,  but  if  they'd  take 
him  and  put  him  to  road  mending  for  three  or 
four  years  I'd  be  a  happier  man.  And  as  far  as 
I'm  concerned,  I'm  going  to  give  them  the 
chance." 

The  two  men  had  stood  listening,  and  now 
Bill  spoke: 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  this  is  a  rescue 
party?"  he  said.  "Seeing  the  basket  I  thought 
it  was  a  picnic.  I  just  want  to  say  this:  If  you 

have  any  idea  of  going  to  V ,  and  as  we  were 

going  in  that  direction  ourselves,  we  might  com 
bine.  My  friend  here  and  I  were  over  last  night, 
and  we  know  how  to  get  into  the  town." 

"Very  well,"  Tish  agreed  after  a  moment's 
hesitation.  "I  have  no  objection.  It  must  be  dis 
tinctly  understood,  however,  that  I  am  in  charge. 
Captain  Sands  is  my  nephew." 

Another  light  went  up  just  then,  and  I  per 
ceived  that  he  was  staring  at  her. 

"My — my  word!"  he  gasped. 


SALVAGE  251 


We  then  fell  on  our  faces,  and  while  lying  there 
I  heard  him  whispering  to  Bill.  He  then  said 
to  Tish:  "I  believe,  lady,  that  we  have  met 
before." 

"Very  possibly,"  Tish  said  calmly.  "In  the 
course  of  my  welfare  work  I  have  met  many  of 
our  brave  men." 

"I  wouldn't  call  it  exactly  welfare  work  you 
were  doing  when  I  saw  you." 

"No?"  said  Tish. 

"You  may  be  interested  to  know  that  if  you 
hadn't  stolen  that  ambulance " 

"Salvaged." 

" salvaged  that  ambulance  I  would  now  be 

in  safety  in  Paris,  instead  of Not  that  I'd 

exchange,"  he  added.  "I  wouldn't  have  missed 
this  excursion  for  a  good  bit.  But  they  made  it 
so  darned  unpleasant  for  me  that  I  enlisted." 

The  starlight  having  now  died  we  rose  and 
prepared  to  advance.  Mr.  Burton,  however,  was 
very  difficult  and  tried  to  get  Tish  to  promise  to 
leave  Captain  Weber  if  we  found  him. 

"It's  the  only  bit  of  luck  I've  had  since  I  left 
home,  Miss  Tish,"  he  said. 

Tish,  however,  ignored  him,  and  with  the  help 
of  our  new  allies  briefly  sketched  a  plan  of 
campaign. 

I  make  no  pretensions  to  military  knowledge, 


252  MORE  TISH 


but  I  shall  try  to  explain  the  situation  at  V , 

as  our  dear  Tish  learned  it  from  the  general's 
papers  and  the  two  soldiers.  The  real  German 
position — a  military  term  meaning  location  and 
not  attitude — was  behind  the  town,  but  they  kept 
enough  soldiers  in  it  to  hold  it,  and  in  case  of  an 
attack  they  filled  it  up  with  great  rapidity.  So 
far  the  church  tower  remained  standing,  as  the 
Allies  wished  on  taking  the  town  to  use  it  to  look 
out  from  and  observe  any  unfriendly  actions  on 
the  part  of  the  Germans. 

"If  only,"  Tish  said,  "we  could  have  repaired 
that  machine  gun  and  brought  it  the  affair  would 
be  extremely  simple.  It  has  from  the  beginning 
been  my  intention  to  give  the  impression  of  an 
attack  in  force." 

She  then  considered  for  a  short  time,  and  fi 
nally  suggested  that  the  two  soldiers  return  to  the 
allied  Front  and  attempt  to  secure  two  auto 
matic  rifles. 

"And  it  might  be  as  well,"  she  added,  "to  take 
Miss  Aggie  with  you.  She  is  wet  through,  and 
will  undoubtedly  before  long  have  a  return  of 
her  hay  fever,  which  with  her  has  no  season.  A 
sneeze  at  a  critical  time  might  easily  ruin  us." 

Aggie,  however,  absolutely  refused  to  return, 
and  said  that  by  holding  her  nostrils  closed  and 
her  mouth  open  she  could,  if  she  felt  the  par- 


SALVAGE  253 

oxysm  coming  on,  sneeze  almost  noiselessly.  She 
said  also  that  though  not  related  to  her  by  blood 
Charlie  Sands  was  as  dear  as  her  own,  and  that 

if  turned  back  she  would  go  to  V alone  and, 

if  captured,  at  least  suffer  imprisonment  with 
him. 

Tish  was  quite  touched,  I  could  see,  and  on  the 
two  men  departing  to  attempt  the  salvage  of 
the  required  weapons  she  assisted  me  in  wringing 
out  Aggie's  clothing  and  in  making  her  as  com 
fortable  as  possible. 

We  waited  for  some  time,  eating  chocolate  to 
restore  our  strength,  and  attempting  to  comfort 
Mr.  Burton,  who  was  very  surly. 

"It  has  been  my  trouble  all  my  life,"  he  ob 
served  bitterly,  "not  to  leave  well  enough  alone. 
I  hadn't  any  hope  of  the  success  of  this  expedi 
tion  before,  but  now  I  know  you'll  pull  it  off. 
You'll  get  Sands  and  you'll  get  Weber  and  send 
him  back — to — well,  you  understand.  It's  just 
my  luck.  I'm  not  complaining,  but  if  I'm  killed 
and  he  isn't  I'm  going  to  haunt  that  Y  hut  and 
make  it  darned  unpleasant  for  both  of  them." 

Tish  reproved  him  for  debasing  the  future  life 
to  such  purposes,  but  he  was  firm. 

"If  you  think  I'm  going  to  stand  round  and 
be  walked  through  and  sat  on,  and  all  the  in 
dignities  that  ghosts  must  suffer,  without  getting 


254  MORE  TISH 


back,"  he  said  gloomily,  "you  can  think  again, 
Miss  Tish!" 

When  the  two  men  returned  Tish  gave  them  a 
brief  talking-to. 

"First  of  all,"  she  said,  "there  must  be  no  mis 
take  as  to  who  is  in  command  of  this  expedition. 
If  we  succeed  it  will  be  by  finesse  rather  than 
force,  and  that  is  distinctly  a  feminine  quality. 
Second,  there  is  to  be  no  unnecessary  fighting. 
We  are  here  to  secure  my  nephew,  not  the  Ger 
man  Army." 

The  man  we  had  bumped  off  the  step  of  the 
ambulance,  whose  name  proved  to  be  Jim,  said  at 
once  that  that  last  sentence  had  relieved  his 
mind  greatly.  A  few  prisoners  wouldn't  put 
them  out  seriously,  but  the  Allies  were  feeding 
more  than  they  could  afford  already. 

"But  a  few  won't  matter,"  he  added.  "Say,  a 
dozen  or  so.  They  won't  kick  on  that." 

I  have  never  learned  where  Tish  learned  her 
strategy — unless  from  the  papers  she  took  from 
the  general's  cellar. 

Military  experts  have  always  considered  the 
plan  masterly,  I  believe,  and  have  lauded  the 
mobility  of  a  small  force  and  the  greater  element 
of  surprise  possible,  as  demonstrated  by  the  in 
cidents  which  followed. 


SALVAGE 255 

Briefly  Tish  adhered  to  her  plan  of  making  the 
attack  seem  a  large  one,  by  spreading  the  party 
over  a  large  area  and  having  it  make  as  much 
noise  as  possible. 

"By  firing  from  one  spot,  and  then  running 
rapidly  either  to  right  or  left,  and  firing  again," 
she  said,  "those  who  have  only  revolvers  may 
easily  appear  to  be  several  persons  instead  of 
one." 

She  then  arranged  that  the  two  automatic 
rifles  attack  the  town  from  in  front,  but  widely 
separated,  while  Aggie  and  myself,  endeavoring 
to  be  a  platoon — or  perhaps  she  said  regiment — 
would  advance  from  the  left.  On  the  right  Mr. 
Burton  was  to  move  forward  in  force,  firing  his 
revolver  and  throwing  grenades  in  different  di 
rections.  Of  her  own  plans  she  said  nothing. 

"Forward,  the  Suicide  Club !"  said  Mr.  Burton 
with  that  strange  sarcasm  which  had  marked  him 
during  the  last  hour. 

I  have  since  reflected  that  certain  kinds  of  men 
seem  to  take  love  very  unpleasantly.  Aggie, 
however,  maintains  that  the  deeper  the  love  the 
greater  the  misery,  and  that  Mr.  Wiggins  once 
sent  back  a  muffler  she  had  made  for  him  on  see 
ing  her  conversing  with  the  janitor  of  the  church 
about  dust  in  her  pew. 

In  a  short  time  we  had  passed  through  the 


256  MORE  TISH 

wood  and  the  remainder  of  the  excursion  was 
very  slow,  owing  to  being  obliged  to  crawl  on 
our  hands  and  knees.  We  could  now  see  the 
church  tower,  and  Tish  gave  the  signal  to  sep 
arate.  The  men  left  us  at  once,  but  for  a  short 
time  Tish  was  near  me,  as  I  could  tell  by  an 
irritated  exclamation  from  her  when  she  became 
entangled  in  the  enemy's  barbed  wire.  But  soon 
I  realized  that  she  had  gone.  Looking  back  I  be 
lieve  it  was  just  before  we  met  the  Germans  who 
were  out  laying  wire,  but  I  am  not  quite  certain. 
There  were  about  ten  of  the  enemy,  and  they  al 
most  stepped  on  Aggie.  She  said  afterward  that 
she  was  so  alarmed  that  she  sneezed,  but  that 
having  buried  her  entire  face  in  a  mudhole  they 
did  not  hear  her.  We  lay  quite  still  for  some 
time,  and  when  they  had  gone  and  we  could  move 
again  Tish  had  disappeared. 

However,  we  obeyed  orders  and  went  on  mov 
ing  steadily  to  the  left,  and  before  long  we  were 
able  to  make  out  the  ruins  of  V directly  be 
fore  us.  They  were  apparently  empty  and  silent, 
and  concealing  ourselves  behind  a  fallen  wall  we 
waited  for  the  automatic  rifles  to  give  the  signal. 
Aggie  had  taken  cold  from  her  wetting,  and 
could  hardly  speak. 

"Fb  sure  they've  taked  Tish,"  were  her  first 
words. 


SALVAGE  257 


"Not  alive,"  I  said  grimly. 

"Lizzie!    Oh,  by  dearTish!" 

"If  you've  got  to  worry,"  I  said  rather  tartly, 
"worry  about  the  Germans.  It  wouldn't  surprise 
me  a  particle  to  see  her  bring  in  the  lot." 

Well,  the  attack  started  just  then  and  Aggie 
and  I  got  our  revolvers  and  began  shooting  as 
rapidly  as  possible,  firing  from  the  end  of  the 
village,  and  with  Mr.  Burton's  grenades  from 
one  side  and  our  revolvers  from  the  other  it  made 
a  tremendous  noise.  Aggie  and  I  did  our  best,  I 
know,  to  appear  to  be  a  large  number,  firing  and 
then  moving  to  a  new  point  and  firing  again.  I 
must  say  from  the  way  those  Germans  ran  to 
ward  their  own  lines  behind  the  town  I  was  not 
surprised  at  the  rapidity  of  the  final  retreat  which 
ended  the  war.  As  Aggie  said  later,  we  were 
not  there  to  kill  them  unless  necessary,  but  they 
ran  so  fast  at  times  it  was  difficult  to  avoid  hitting 
them.  They  fairly  ran  into  the  bullets. 

In  a  very  short  time  there  was  not  one  in 
sight,  but  we  kept  on  firing  for  a  trifle  longer, 
and  then  made  for  the  church,  meeting  the  two 
privates  on  the  way.  When  we  arrived  Mr.  Bur 
ton  was  already  there  and  had  unfastened  a  large 
bolt  on  the  outside  of  the  door.  We  crowded  in, 
and  somebody  closed  the  door  and  we  had  a  mo 
ment  to  breathe. 


258  MORE  TISH 


"Well,  here  we  are,"  said  Mr.  Burton  in  a 
quite  cheerful  tone.  "And  not  a  casualty  among 
us — or  the  Germans  either,  I  fancy,  save  those 
that  died  of  heart  disease.  Are  we  all  here,  by 
the  way?" 

He  then  struck  a  match,  and  my  heart  sank. 

"Tish!"  I  cried.     "Tish  is  not  here!" 

It  was  then  that  a  voice  from  the  far  end  of 
the  church  said:  "Suffering  snakes!  I'm  de 
lirious,  Weber !  I  knew  that  beer  would  get  me. 
I  thought  I  heard— 

Some  one  was  hammering  at  the  door  with  a 
revolver,  and  we  heard  Tish's  dear  voice  outside 
saying:  "Keep  your  hands  up!  Lizzie!" 

Mr.  Burton  opened  the  door  and  Tish  backed 
in,  followed  by  a  figure  that  was  muttering  in 
German.  She  had  both  her  revolvers  pointed 
at  it,  and  she  said:  "Close  the  door,  somebody, 
and  get  a  light.  I  think  it's  a  general." 

Well,  Charlie  Sands  was  coming  with  a  candle 
stuck  in  the  neck  of  a  bottle,  and  he  seemed  ex 
tremely  surprised.  He  kept  stumbling  over  things 
and  saying  "Wake  me,  Weber,"  until  he  had  put 
a  hand  on  my  arm. 

"It's  real,"  he  said  then.  "It's  a  real  arm. 
Therefore  it  is,  it  must  be.  And  yet " 

"Stop  driveling,"  Tish  said  sharply,  "and  tie 


SALVAGE  259 

up  this  general  or  whatever  he  is.  I  don't  trust 
him.  He's  got  a  mean  eye." 

It  has  been  the  opinion  of  military  experts  that 
the  reason  the  enemy  had  apparently  lost  its 
morale  and  failed  to  make  a  counter-attack  at 
once  was  the  early  loss  of  this  officer.  In  fact,  a 
prisoner  taken  later  I  believe  told  the  story  that 

V had  been  attacked  and  captured  by  an 

entire  division,  without  artillery  preparation,  and 
that  he  himself  had  seen  the  commanding  officer 
killed  by  a  shell.  But  the  truth  was  that  Tish, 
having  fallen  into  an  empty  trench  a  moment  or 
so  before  I  missed  her,  had  after  recovering  from 
the  shock  and  surprise  followed  the  trench  for 
some  distance,  finding  that  she  could  advance 
more  rapidly  than  by  crawling  on  the  surface. 

She  had  in  this  manner  happened  on  a  dugout 
where  a  German  officer  was  sitting  at  a  table  with 
a  lighted  candle  marking  the  corners  of  certain 
playing  cards  with  the  point  of  a  pin.  He  seemed 
to  be  in  a  very  bad  humor,  and  was  muttering  to 
himself.  She  waited  in  the  darkness  until  he  had 
finished,  and  had  shoved  the  cards  into  his  pocket. 
When  he  had  extinguished  the  candle  he  started 
back  along  the  trench  toward  the  village,  and 
Tish  merely  put  her  two  revolvers  to  his  back 
and  captured  him. 

I  pass  over  the  touching  reunion  between  Tish 


260  MORE  TISH 


and  her  beloved  nephew.  He  seemed  profoundly 
affected,  and  moving  out  of  the  candlelight  gave 
way  to  emotion  that  fairly  shook  him.  It  was 
when  he  returned  wiping  his  eyes  that  he  recog 
nized  the  German  officer.  He  became  exceed 
ingly  grave  at  once. 

"I  trust  you  understand,"  he  said  to  him,  "that 
this — er — surprise  party  is  no  reflection  on  your 
hospitality.  And  I  am  glad  to  point  out  also  that 
the  pinochle  game  is  not  necessarily  broken  up. 
It  can  continue  until  you  are  moved  back  behind 
the  Allied  lines.  I  may  not,"  he  added,  "be  able 
to  offer  you  a  church,  because  if  I  do  say  it  you 
people  have  been  wasteful  as  to  churches.  But 
almost  any  place  in  our  trenches  is  entirely  safe." 

He  then  looked  round  the  group  again  and 
said:  "Don't  tell  me  Aunt  Aggie  has  missed 
this!  I  couldn't  bear  it." 

"Aggie !"  I  cried.    "Where  is  Aggie  ?" 

It  was  then  that  the  painful  truth  dawned  on 
us.  Aggie  had  not  entered  the  church.  She  was 
still  outside,  perhaps  wandering  alone  among  a 
cruel  and  relentless  foe.  It  was  a  terrible 
moment. 

I  can  still  see  the  white  and  anxious  faces 
round  the  candle,  and  Tish's  insistence  that  a 
search  be  organized  at  once  to  find  her.  Mr. 
Burton  went  out  immediately,  and  returned  soon 


SALVAGE 261 

after  to  say  that  she  was  not  in  sight,  and  that 
the  retiring-  Germans  were  sending  up  signal 
rockets  and  were  probably  going  to  rush  the 
town  at  once. 

We  held  a  short  council  of  war  then,  but  there 
was  nothing  to  do  but  to  retire,  having  accom 
plished  our  purpose.  Even  Tish  felt  this,  and 
said  that  it  was  a  rule  of  war  that  the  many 
should  not  suffer  for  the  few ;  also  that  she  didn't 
propose  losing  a  night's  sleep  to  rescue  Charlie 
Sands  and  then  have  him  retaken  again,  as  might 
happen  any  minute. 

We  put  out  the  candle  and  left  the  church,  and 
not  a  moment  too  soon,  for  a  shell  dropped 
through  the  roof  behind  us,  and  more  followed 
it  at  once.  I  was  very  uneasy,  especially  as  I 
was  quite  sure  that  between  explosions  I  could 
hear  Aggie's  voice  far  away  calling  Tish. 

We  retired  slowly,  taking  our  prisoner  with 
us,  and  turning  round  to  fire  toward  the  enemy 
now  and  then.  We  also  called  Aggie  by  name  at 
intervals,  but  she  did  not  appear.  And  when  we 
reached  the  very  edge  of  the  town  the  Germans 
were  at  the  opposite  end  of  it,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  accelerate  our  pace  until  lost  in  the 
Stygian  darkness  of  the  wood. 

It  was  there  that  I  felt  Tish's  hand  on  my  arm. 

"I'm  going  back,"   she   said   in   a  low   tone. 


262  MORE  TISH 


"Driveling  idiot  that  she  is,  I  cannot  think  of  her 
hiding  somewhere  and  sneezing  herself  into  cap 
tivity.  I  am  going  back,  Lizzie." 

"Then  I  go  too,"  I  said  firmly.  "I  guess  if 
she's  your  responsibility  she's  mine  too." 

Well,  she  didn't  want  me  any  more  than  she 
wanted  the  measles,  but  the  time  was  coming 
when  she  could  thank  her  lucky  stars  I  was  there. 
However,  she  said  nothing,  but  I  heard  her  sug 
gesting  that  we  separate,  every  man  for  himself, 
except  the  prisoner,  and  work  back  to  our  own 
side  the  best  way  we  could. 

With  her  customary  thought  fulness,  however, 
she  held  a  short  conversation  with  Mr.  Burton 
first.  I  have  not  mentioned  Captain  Weber,  I 
believe,  since  our  first  entrance  into  the  church, 
but  he  was  with  us,  and  I  had  observed  Mr.  Bur 
ton  eying  him  with  unfriendly  eyes.  Indeed,  I 
am  quite  convinced  that  the  accident  of  our  leav 
ing  the  church  without  the  captain,  and  finding 
him  left  behind  and  bolted  in,  was  no  accident 
at  all." 

Tish  merely  told  Mr.  Burton  that  the  prisoner 
was  his,  and  that  if  he  chose  and  could  manage 
to  present  him  to  Hilda  he  might  as  well  do  it. 

"She's  welcome  to  him,"  she  said. 

"He's  not  my  prisoner." 

"He  is  now ;  I  give  him  to  you." 


SALVAGE  263 


Finding  him  obdurate,  however,  she  resorted 
to  argument. 

"It  doesn't  invalidate  an  engagement,"  she 
said  rather  brusquely,  "for  a  man  to  borrow  the 
money  for  an  engagement  ring.  If  it  did  there 
would  be  fewer  engagements.  If  you  want  to 
borrow  a  German  prisoner  for  the  same  purpose 
the  principle  is  the  same." 

He  seemed  to  be  weakening. 

"I'd  like  to  do  it — if  only  to  see  her  face,"  he 
said  slowly.  "Not  but  what  it's  a  risk.  He's  a 
good-looking  devil." 

In  the  end,  however,  he  agreed,  and  the  last 
we  saw  of  them  he  was  driving  the  German 
ahead,  with  a  grenade  in  one  hand  and  his  re 
volver  in  the  other,  and  looking  happier  than  he 
had  looked  for  days. 

Almost  immediately  after  that  I  felt  Tish's 
hand  on  my  arm.  We  turned  and  went  back 
toward  V . 

Military  experts  have  been  rather  puzzled  by 
our  statement  that  the  Germans  did  not  reenter 

V that  night,  but  remained  just  outside,  and 

that  we  reached  the  church  again  without  so 
much  as  a  how-do-you-do  from  any  of  them.  I 
believe  the  general  impression  is  that  they  feared 
a  trap.  I  think  they  are  rather  annoyed  to  learn 
that  there  was  a  period  of  several  hours  during 


264 MORE  TISH 

which  they  might  safely  have  taken  the  town;  in 
fact,  the  irritable  general  who  was  married  to 
the  colonel's  brother  was  most  unpleasant  about 
it.  When  everything  was  over  he  came  to  Paris 
to  see  us,  and  he  was  most  unpleasant. 

"If  you  wanted  to  take  the  damned  town,  why 
didn't  you  say  so?"  he  roared.  "You  came  in 
with  a  long  story  about  a  nephew,  but  it's  my 
plain  conviction,  madam,  that  you  were  flying  for 
higher  game  than  your  nephew  from  the  start." 

Tish  merely  smiled  coldly. 

"Perhaps,"  she  said  in  a  cryptic  manner.  "But, 
of  course,  in  these  days  of  war  one  must  be  very 
careful.  It  is  difficult  to  tell  whom  to  trust." 

As  he  became  very  red  at  that  she  gently  re 
minded  him  of  his  blood  pressure,  but  he  only 
hammered  on  the  table  and  said : 

"Another  thing,  madam.  God  knows  I  don't 
begrudge  you  the  falderals  they've  been  pinning 
on  you,  but  it  seems  to  me  more  than  a  coinci 
dence  that  your  celebrated  strategy  followed 
closely  the  lines  of  a  memorandum,  madam,  that 
was  missing  from  my  table  after  your  departure." 

"My  dear  man,"  Tish  replied  urbanely,  "there 
is  a  little  military  word  I  must  remind  you  of — 
salvage.  As  one  of  your  own  staff  explained  it 
to  me  one  perceives  an  object  necessary  to  certain 
operations.  If  on  saluting  that  object  it  fails  to 


SALVAGE  265 


return  the  salute  I  believe  the  next  step  is  to  cap 
ture  it.  Am  I  not  right?" 

But  I  regret  to  say  that  he  merely  picked  up 
his  cap  and  went  out  of  our  sitting  room,  bang 
ing  the  door  behind  him. 

To  return.  We  reached  the  church  safely,  and 
from  that  working  out  in  different  directions  we 
began  our  unhappy  search.  However,  as  it  was 
still  very  dark  I  evidently  lost  my  sense  of  direc 
tion,  and  while  peering  into  a  cellar  was  sud 
denly  shocked  by  feeling  a  revolver  thrust  against 
my  back. 

"You  are  my  prisoner,"  said  a  voice.  "Move 
and  I'll  fire." 

It  was,  however,  only  Tish.  We  were  both' 
despondent  by  that  time,  and  agreed  to  give  up 
the  search.  As  it  happened  it  was  well  we  did 
so,  for  we  had  no  more  than  reached  the  church 
and  seated  ourselves  on  the  doorstep  in  deep  de 
jection  when  the  enemy  rushed  the  village.  I  con 
fess  that  my  immediate  impulse  was  flight,  but 
Tish  was  of  more  heroic  stuff. 

"They  are  coming,  Lizzie,"  she  said.  "If  you 
wish  to  fly  go  now.  I  shall  remain.  I  have  too 
many  tender  memories  of  Aggie  to  desert  her." 

She  then  rose  and  went  without  haste  into  the 
church,  which  was  sadly  changed  by  shell  fire  in 
the  last  two  hours,  and  I  followed  her.  By  the 


266  MORE  TISH 


aid  of  the  flashlight,  cautiously  used,  we  made 
our  way  to  a  break  in  the  floor  and  Tish  sug 
gested  that  we  retire  to  the  cellar,  which  we  did, 
descending  on  piles  of  rubbish.  The  noise  in  the 
street  was  terrible  by  that  time,  but  the  cellar 
was  quiet  enough,  save  when  now  and  then  a 
fresh  portion  of  the  roof  gave  way. 

I  was  by  this  time  exceedingly  nervous,  and 
Tish  gave  me  a  mouthful  of  cordial.  She  her 
self  was  quite  calm. 

"We  must  give  them  time  to  quiet  down,"  she 
said.  "They  sound  quite  hysterical,  and  it  would 
be  dangerous  to  be  discovered  just  now.  Per 
haps  we  would  better  find  a  sheltered  spot  and 
get  some  sleep.  I  shall  need  my  wits  clear  in  the 
morning." 

It  was  fortunate  for  us  that  the  French  use 
the  basements  of  their  churches  for  burying  pur 
poses,  for  by  crawling  behind  a  marble  sarcoph 
agus  we  found  a  sort  of  cave  made  by  the 
debris.  Owing  to  that  protection  the  grenades 
the  enemy  threw  into  the  cellar  did  no  harm  what 
ever,  save  to  waken  Tish  from  a  sound  sleep. 

"Drat  them  anyhow!"  she  said.  "I  was  just 
dreaming  that  Mr.  Ostermaier  had  declined  a 
raise  in  his  salary." 

"Tish,"  I  said,  "suppose  they  find  Aggie?" 

She  yawned  and  turned  over. 


SALVAGE  267 


"Aggie's  got  more  brains  than  you  think  she 
has,"  was  her  comment.  "She  hates  dying  about 
as  much  as  most  people.  My  own  private  opinion 
is  and  has  been  that  she  went  back  to  our  lines 
hours  ago." 

"Tish!"  I  exclaimed.     "Then  why " 

"I  just  want  to  try  a  little  experiment,"  she 
said  drowsily,  and  was  immediately  asleep. 

At  last  I  slept  myself,  and  when  we  wakened 
it  was  daylight,  and  the  Germans  were  in  full 
possession  of  the  town.  They  inspected  the 
church  building  overhead,  but  left  it  quickly ;  and 
Tish  drew  a  keen  deduction  from  that. 

"Well,  that's  something  in  our  favor,"  she 
said.  "Evidently  they're  afraid  the  thing  will 
fall  in  on  them." 

At  eight  o'clock  she  complained  of  being  hun 
gry,  and  I  felt  the  need  of  food  myself.  With 
her  customary  promptness  she  set  out  to  dis 
cover  food,  leaving  me  alone,  a  prey  to  sad  mis 
givings.  In  a  short  time,  however,  she  returned 
and  asked  me  if  I'd  seen  a  piece  of  wire  anywhere. 

"I've  got  considerable  barbed  wire  sticking  in 
me  in  various  places,"  I  said  rather  tartly,  "if 
that  will  do." 

But  she  only  stood,  staring  about  her  in  the 
semidarkness. 

"A  lath  with  a  nail  in  the  end  of  it  would 


268  MORE  TISH 


answer,"  she  observed.  "Didn't  you  step  on  a 
nail  last  night?" 

Well,  I  had,  and  at  last  we  found  it.  It  was 
in  the  end  of  a  plank  and  seemed  to  be  precisely 
what  she  wanted.  She  took  it  away  with  her, 
and  was  gone  some  twenty  minutes.  At  the  end 
of  that  time  she  returned  carrying  carefully  a 
small  panful  of  fried  bacon. 

"I  had  to  wait,"  she  explained.  "He  had  just 
put  in  some  fresh  slices  when  I  got  there." 

While  we  ate  she  explained. 

"There  is  a  small  opening  to  the  street,"  she 
said,  "where  there  is  a  machine  gun,  now  covered 
with  debris.  Just  outside  I  perceived  a  soldier 
cooking  his  breakfast.  Of  course  there  was  a 
chance  that  he  would  not  look  away  at  the  proper 
moment,  but  he  stood  up  to  fill  his  pipe.  I'd  have 
got  his  coffee  too,  but  in  the  fight  he  kicked  it 


over." 


"What  fight?"  I  asked. 

"He  blamed  another  soldier  for  taking  the  ba 
con.  He  was  really  savage,  Lizzie.  From  the 
way  he  acted  I  gather  that  they  haven't  any  too 
much  to  eat." 

Breakfast  fortified  us  both  greatly,  but  it  also 
set  me  to  thinking  sadly  of  Aggie,  whose  morn 
ing  meal  was  a  crisp  slice  of  bacon,  varied  occa 
sionally  by  an  egg.  I  had  not  Tish's  confidence 


SALVAGE  269 

in  her  escape.  And  Tish  was  restless.  She  in 
sisted  on  wandering  about  the  cellar,  and  near 
noon  I  missed  her  for  two  hours.  When  she 
came  back  she  was  covered  with  plaster  dust,  but 
she  made  no  explanation. 

"I  have  been  thinking  over  the  situation,  Liz 
zie,"  she  said,  "and  it  divides  itself  into  two  parts. 
We  must  wait  until  nightfall  and  then  search 
again  for  Aggie,  in  case  my  judgment  is  wrong 
as  to  her  escape.  And  then  there  is  a  higher  law 
than  that  of  friendship.  There  is  our  duty  to 
Aggie,  and  there  is  also  our  duty  to  the  nation." 

"Well,"  I  said  rather  shortly,  "I  guess  we've 
done  our  duty.  We've  taken  a  prisoner.  I  owe 
a  duty  to  my  backbone,  which  is  sore  from  these 
rocks;  and  my  right  leg,  which  has  been  tied  in 
a  knot  with  cramp  for  three  hours." 

"When,"  Tish  broke  in,  "is  a  railroad  most 
safe  to  travel  on?  Just  after  a  wreck,  certainly. 
And  when,  then,  is  a  town  easiest  to  capture? 
Just  after  it  has  been  captured.  Do  you  think 
for  one  moment  that  they'll  expect  another  raid 
tonight?" 

"Do  you  think  there  will  be  one?"  I  asked 
hopefully. 

"I  know  there  will." 

She  would  say  nothing  further,  but  departed 
immediately  and  was  gone  most  of  the  afternoon. 


270  MORE  TISH 


She  came  back  wearing  a  strange  look  of  triumph, 
and  asked  me  if  I  remembered  the  code  Aggie 
used,  but  I  had  never  learned  it.  She  was  very 
impatient. 

"It's  typical  of  her,"  she  said,  "to  disappear 
just  when  we  need  her  most.  If  you  knew  the 
code  and  could  get  rid  of  the  lookout  they  keep 
in  the  tower,  while  I " 

She  broke  off  and  reflected. 

"They've  got  to  change  the  lookout  in  the 
tower,"  she  said.  "If  the  one  comes  down  be 
fore  the  other  goes  up,  and  if  we  had  a 
hatchet " 

"Exactly,"  I  said.  "And  if  we  were  back  in 
the  cottage  at  Penzance,  with  nothing  worse  to 
fight  than  mosquitoes " 

We  had  no  midday  meal,  but  at  dusk  Tish  was 
lucky  enough  to  capture  a  knapsack  set  down 
by  a  German  soldier  just  outside  the  machine- 
gun  aperture,  and  we  ate  what  I  believe  are 
termed  emergency  rations.  By  that  time  it  was 
quite  dark,  and  Tish  announced  that  the  time 
had  come  to  strike,  though  she  refused  any  other 
explanation. 

We  had  no  difficulty  in  getting  out  of  the  cel 
lar,  and  Tish  led  the  way  immediately  to  the 
foot  of  the  tower. 

"We  must  get  rid  of  the  sentry  up  there,"  she 


SALVAGE  271 

whispered.  "The  moment  he  hears  a  racket  in 
the  street  he  will  signal  for  reinforcements, 
which  would  be  unfortunate." 

"What  racket?"  I  demanded. 

But  she  did  not  reply.  Instead  she  moved  into 
the  recess  below  the  tower  and  stood  looking  up 
thoughtfully.  I  joined  her,  and  we  could  make 
out  what  seemed  to  be  a  platform  above,  and 
we  distinctly  saw  a  light  on  it,  as  though  the  look 
out  had  struck  a  match.  I  suggested  firing  up 
at  him,  but  Tish  sniffed. 

"And  bring  in  the  entire  regiment,  or  whatever 
it  is !"  she  said  scornfully  but  in  a  whisper.  "Use 
your  brains,  Lizzie!" 

However,  at  that  moment  the  sentry  solved  the 
question  himself,  for  he  started  down.  We  could 
hear  his  coming.  We  concealed  ourselves  hast 
ily,  and  Tish  watched  him  go  out  and  into  a 
cellar  across  the  street,  where  she  said  she  was 
convinced  they  were  serving  beer.  Indeed,  there 
could  be  no  doubt  of  it,  she  maintained,  as  the 
men  went  there  in  crowds,  and  many  of  them 
carried  tin  cups. 

Tish's  first  thought  was  that  he  would  be  im 
mediately  relieved  by  another  lookout,  and  she 
stationed  herself  inside  the  door,  ready  to  make 
him  prisoner.  But  finally  the  truth  dawned  on 
us  that  he  had  temporarily  deserted  his  post.  Tish 


272  MORE  TISH 


took  immediate  advantage  of  his  absence  to  pre 
pare  to  ascend  the  tower,  and  having  found  a 
large  knife  in  the  knapsack  she  had  salvaged  she 
took  it  between  her  teeth  and  climbed  the  narrow 
winding  staircase. 

"If  he  comes  back  before  I  return,  Lizzie,"  she 
said,  "capture  him,  but  don't  shoot.  It  might 
make  the  rest  suspicious." 

She  then  disappeared  and  I  heard  her  climb 
ing  the  stairs  with  her  usual  agility.  However, 
she  returned  considerably  sooner  than  I  had  an 
ticipated,  and  in  a  state  of  intense  anger. 

"There  is  another  one  up  there,"  she  whis 
pered.  "I  heard  him  sneezing.  Why  he  didn't 
shoot  at  me  I  don't  know,  unless  he  thought  I 
was  the  other  one.  But  I've  fixed  him,"  she  add 
ed  with  a  tinge  of  complacency.  "It's  a  rope 
ladder  at  the  top.  I  reached  up  as  high  as  I 
could  and  cut  it." 

She  then  grew  thoughtful  and  observed  that 
cutting  the  ladder  necessitated  changing  a  part 
of  her  plan. 

"What  plan?"  I  demanded.  "I  guess  my  life's 
at  stake  as  well  as  yours,  Tish  Carberry." 

"I  should  think  it  would  be  perfectly  clear," 
she  said.  "We've  either  got  to  take  this  town  or 
starve  like  rats  in  that  cellar.  They've  got  so 
now  that  they  won't  even  walk  on  the  side  next 


SALVAGE  273 


to  the  church,  and  some  of  them  cross  themselves. 
The  frying  pan  seems  to  have  started  it,  and 

when  the  knapsack  disappeared However, 

here's  my  plan,  Lizzie.  From  what  I  have  ob 
served  during  the  day  pretty  nearly  the  entire 
lot,  except  the  sentries,  will  be  in  that  beer  cellar 
across  in  an  hour  or  so.  The  rest  will  run  for 
it — take  my  word — the  moment  I  open  fire." 

"I'll  take  your  word,  Tish,"  I  said.  "But  what 
if  they  don't  run?" 

She  merely  waved  her  hand. 

"My  plan  is  simply  this,"  she  said :  "I've  been 
tinkering  with  that  machine  gun  most  of  the  day, 
and  my  conviction  is  that  it  will  work.  You 
simply  turn  a  handle  like  a  hand  sewing  ma 
chine.  As  soon  as  you  hear  me  starting  it  you 
leave  the  church  by  that  shell  hole  at  the  back  and 
go  as  rapidly  as  possible  back  to  the  American 
lines.  I'll  guarantee,"  she  added  grimly,  "that 
not  a  German  leaves  that  cellar  across  the  street 
until  my  arm's  worn  out." 

"What  shall  I  say,  Tish?"  I  quavered. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  way  she  drew  herself 
up. 

"Say,"  she  directed,  "that  we  have  captured 

the  town  of  V and  that  they  can  come  over 

and  plant  the  flag." 

I  must  profess  to  a  certain  anxiety  during  the 


274  MORE  TISH 


period  of  waiting  that  followed.  I  felt  keenly 
the  necessity  of  leaving  my  dear  Tish  to  capture 
and  hold  the  town  alone.  And  various  painful 
thoughts  of  Aggie  added  to  my  uneasiness.  Nor 
was  my  perturbation  decreased  by  the  reentrance 
of  the  lookout  some  half  hour  after  he  had  gone 
out.  Concealed  behind  debris  we  listened  to  his 
footsteps  as  he  ascended  the  tower,  and  could 
distinctly  hear  his  ferocious  mutterings  when 
he  discovered  that  the  rope  had  been  cut. 

But  strangely  enough  he  did  not  call  to  the 
other  man,  cut  off  on  the  platform  above. 

"I  don't  believe  there  was  another,"  I  whis 
pered  to  Tish.  But  she  was  confident  that  she 
had  heard  one,  and  she  observed  that  very  prob 
ably  the  two  had  quarreled. 

"It  is  a  well-known  tendency  of  two  men,  cut 
off  from  their  kind,"  she  said,  "to  become  vio 
lently  embittered  toward  each  other.  Listen.  He 
is  coming  down." 

I  regret  to  say  that  he  raised  an  immediate 
alarm,  and  that  we  were  forced  to  retire  behind 
our  sarcophagus  in  the  cellar  for  some  time. 
During  the  search  the  enemy  was  close  to  us  a 
number  of  times,  and  had  not  one  of  them 
stepped  on  the  nail  which  had  served  us  so  use 
fully  I  fear  to  think  what  might  have  happened. 


SALVAGE  275 

He  did  so,  however,  and  retired  snarling  and 
limping. 

I  believe  Tish  has  given  nine  o'clock  in  her 
report  to  G.  H.  Q.  as  the  time  when  she  opened 
fire.  It  was  therefore  about  eight  forty-five 
when  I  left  the  church.  For  some  time  before 
that  the  cellar  across  had  been  filling  up  with  the 
enemy,  and  the  search  for  us  had  ceased.  By 
Tish's  instructions  I  kept  to  back  ways,  throwing 
a  grenade  here  and  there  to  indicate  that  the  at 
tack  was  a  strong  one,  and  also  firing  my  re 
volver.  On  hearing  the  firing  behind  them  the 
Germans  in  the  advanced  trenches  apparently 
considered  that  they  had  been  cut  off  from  the 
rear,  and  I  understand  that  practically  all  of 
them  ran  across  to  our  lines  and  surrendered. 
Indeed  I  was  almost  run  down  by  three  of  them. 

I  was  almost  entirely  out  of  breath  when  I 
reached  our  trenches,  and  had  I  not  had  the  pres 
ence  of  mind  to  shout  "Kamerad,"  which  I  had 
heard  was  the  customary  thing,  I  dare  say  I 
should  have  been  shot. 

I  remember  that  as  I  reached  the  trenches  a 
soldier  called  out:  "Damned  if  the  whole  Ger 
man  Army  isn't  surrendering!" 

I  then  fell  into  the  trench  and  was  immediate 
ly  caught  in  a  very  rude  manner.  When  I  in- 
sisted  that  he  let  me  go  the  man  who  had  cap- 


276  MORE  TISH 


tured  me  only  yelled  when  I  spoke,  and  dropped 
his  gun. 

.  "Hey!"  he  called.    "Fellows!  Come  here!  The 
boches  have  taken  to  fighting  their  women." 

"Don't  be  a  fool!"  I  snapped.     "We've  taken 

V ,  and  I  must  see  the  commanding  officer 

at  once." 

"You  don't  happen  to  have  it  in  your  pocket, 
lady,  have  you?"  he  said.  He  then  turned  a 
light  on  me  and  said :  "Holy  mackerel !  It's  Miss 
Lizzie!  What's  this  about  V ?" 

"Miss  Carberry  has  taken  V ,"  I  said. 

"I  believe  you,"  was  all  he  said;  and  we  started 
for  headquarters. 

I  recall  distinctly  the  scene  in  the  general's 
headquarters  when  we  got  there.  The  general 
was  sitting,  and  both  Charlie  Sands  and  Mr. 
Burton  were  there,  looking  worried  and  unhappy. 
At  first  they  did  not  see  me,  and  I  was  too  much 
out  of  breath  to  speak. 

"I  have  already  told  you  both  that  I  cannot  be 
responsible  for  three  erratic  spinsters.  They  are 
undoubtedly  prisoners  if  they  returned  to 
V ." 

"Prisoners!"  said  Charlie  Sands.  "If  they 
were  prisoners  would  they  be  signaling  from  the 
church  tower  for  help?" 

"I  have  already  heard  that  story.    It's  ridicu- 


SALVAGE  277 


lous.  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  with  that  town 
full  of  Germans  those  women  have  held  the 
church  tower  since  last  night?" 

Mr.  Burton  drew  a  piece  of  paper  from  his 
pocket. 

"From  eight  o'clock  to  nine,"  he  said,  "the  sig 
nal  was  'Help/  repeated  at  frequent  intervals; 
shortly  after  nine  there  was  an  attempt  at  a  con 
nected  message.  Allowing  for  corrections  and 
for  the  fact  that  the  light  was  growing  dim,  as 
though  from  an  overused  battery,  the  message 
runs :  'Help.  Bring  a  ladder.  They  have  cut  the 

'  I  am  sorry  that  the  light  gave  out  just 

there,  and  the  message  was  uncompleted." 

How  terrible  were  my  emotions  at  that  time, 
to  think  that  our  dear  Tish  had  cut  off  Aggie's 
only  hope  of  escape. 

The  general  got  up. 

"I  am  afraid  you  young  gentlemen  are  indulg 
ing  in  a  sense  of  humor  at  my  expense.  Unfor 
tunately  I  have  no  sense  of  humor,  but  you  may 
find  it  funny.  Captain  Sands  to  continue  under 
arrest  for  last  night's  escapade.  As  Mr.  Burton 
is  a  member  of  a  welfare  organization  I  do  not 
find  him  under  my  direct  jurisdiction,  but " 

"Then  I  shall  go  to  V myself!"  Mr.  Bur 
ton  said  angrily.  "I'll  capture  the  whole  damned 
town  single-handed,  and " 


278  MORE  TISH 


I  then  entered  the  cellar  and  said:  "Miss  Car- 
berry  has  captured  V ,  general.  She  asks 

me  to  tell  you  that  you  may  come  over  at  any 
time  and  plant  the  flag.  The  signaling  is  being 
done  by  Miss  Pilkington,  who  is  at  present  hold 
ing  the  tower.  I  am  acting  as  runner." 

I  regret  to  say  that  I  cannot  publish  the  gen 
eral's  reply. 

As  the  remainder  of  the  incident  is  a  matter 
of  historical  record  I  shall  not  describe  the  ad 
vance  of  a  portion  of  our  Army  into  V . 

They  found  the  garrison  either  surrendered,  fled 
or  under  Tish's  fire  in  the  beer  cellar,  and  were, 
I  believe,  at  first  seriously  menaced  by  that  in 
domitable  figure.  It  was  also  extremely  difficult 
to  rescue  Aggie,  as  at  first  she  persisted  in  firing 
through  the  floor  of  the  platform  the  moment 
she  heard  any  one  ascending.  In  due  time,  how 
ever,  she  was  brought  down,  but  as  any  mention 
of  the  tower  for  some  time  gave  her  a  nervous 
chill  it  was  several  weeks  before  we  heard  her 
story. 

I  doubt  if  we  would  have  heard  it  even  then 
had  not  Mr.  Burton  and  Hilda  come  to  Paris  on 
their  wedding  trip.  We  had  a  dinner  for  them 
at  the  Cafe  de  Paris,  and  Mr.  Burton  told  us 
that  we  were  all  to  have  the  Croix  de  Guerre.  He 


SALVAGE  279 


insisted  on  ordering  champagne  to  celebrate,  and 
Aggie  had  two  glasses,  and  then  said  the  room 
was  going  round  like  the  weather  vane  on  the 
tower  at  V . 

She  then  went  rather  white  and  said:  "The 
ladder  was  fastened  to  it,  you  know." 

"What  ladder?"  Tish  asked  sharply. 

"The  rope  ladder  I  was  standing  on.  And 
when  the  wind  blew " 

Well,  we  gave  her  another  glass  of  wine,  and 
she  told  us  the  tragic  story.  She  had  fallen  be 
hind  me,  and  was  round  a  corner,  when  she  felt 
a  sneezing  spell  coming  on.  So  seeing  a  door 
way  she  slipped  in,  and  she  sneezed  for  about 
five  minutes.  When  she  came  out  there  was  no 
body  in  sight,  and  after  wandering  round  she 
went  back  to  the  doorway  and  closed  the  door. 

There  were  stairs  behind  her,  and  when  the 
counter  attack  came  she  ran  up  the  stairs.  She 
knew  then  that  she  was  in  the  church  tower,  but 
she  didn't  dare  to  come  down.  When  the  firing 
stopped  in  the  streets  a  soldier  ran  down  the 
stairs  and  almost  touched  her.  A  moment  later 
she  heard  him  coming  back,  so  she  climbed  up 
ahead  and  got  out  on  a  balcony  above  the  clock. 
But  he  started  to  come  out  on  the  balcony,  and 
just  as  she  was  prepared  to  be  shot  her  hand 


280  MORE  TISH 


touched  a  rope  ladder  and  she  went  up  it  like  a 
shot. 

"It  was  dark,  Tish,"  she  said  with  a  shudder, 
"and  I  couldn't  look  down.  But  when  morning 
came  I  was  up  beside  the  weather  vane,  and  a 
sniper  from  our  lines  must  have  thought  I  didn't 
belong  there,  for  he  fired  at  me  every  now  and 
then." 

Well,  it  seems  she  hung  there  all  day,  and  no 
body  noticed  her.  Luckily  the  wind  mostly  kept 
her  from  the  German  side,  and  the  sentry 
couldn't  see  her  from  the  balcony.  Then  at  last, 
the  next  evening,  she  heard  him  going  down,  and 
she  would  have  made  her  escape,  but  he  had  cut 
the  rope  ladder  below.  She  couldn't  imagine 
why. 

Tish  looked  at  me  steadily. 

"It  is  very  strange,"  she  said.  "But  who  can 
account  for  the  instinct  of  destruction  in  the  Hun 
mind?" 


TWENTY-THREE  AND  A  HALF 
HOURS'  LEAVE 


THE  WORKS  OF 

MARY  ROBERTS 
RINEHART 


TWENTY-THREE  AND  A 
HALF    HOURS'   LEAVE 


THE   REVIEW  OF  REVIEWS   COMPANY 

Publishers  NEW  YORK 

PUBLISHBD    BT    ABBANGBMINT    WITH    GlORCB   H.    DOBAN     COMPANY. 


Copyright,  1918, 
By  George  H.  Doran  Company 


Copyright,  1918, 
By  The  Curtis  PMishing  Company 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TWENTY-THREE  AND  A  HALF 
HOURS'  LEAVE 


THE  Headquarters  Troop  were  preparing  to 
leave  camp  and  move  towards  the  East, 
where  at  an  Atlantic  port  they  would  take  ship 
and  the  third  step  toward  saving  democracy.  Now 
the  Headquarters  Troop  are  a  cavalry  organisa 
tion,  their  particular  function  being,  so  far  as 
the  lay  mind  can  grasp  it,  to  form  a  circle  round 
the  general  and  keep  shells  from  falling  on  him. 
Not  that  this  close  affiliation  gives  them  any  right 
to  friendly  relations  with  that  aloof  and  powerful 
personage. 

"It  just  gives  him  a  few  more  to  yell  at  that 
can't  yell  back,"  grumbled  the  stable  sergeant. 
He  had  been  made  stable  sergeant  because  he 
had  been  a  motorcycle  racer.  By  the  same  process 
of  careful  selection  the  chief  mechanic  had  once 
kept  a  livery  stable. 

The  barracks  hummed  day  and  night.  By  day 
boxes  were  packed,  containing  the  military  equip 
ment  of  horses  and  men  in  wartime.  By  night 
tired  noncoms  pored  over  pay  rolls  and  lists,  and 


6  231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

wrote,  between  naps  on  the  table,  such  thrilling 
literature  as  this : 

"Sergeant  Gray:     fr.  D.  to  Awol.  10  A.  M.,  6 — 

i— '18. 
"Sergeant  Gray:  fr.  Awol.  to  arrest,  pp.  2.  Memo. 

Hdq.  Camp  6—  i—  '18  to  6— 2— '18." 

Which  means,  interpreted,  that  Sergeant  Gray 
was  absent  without  leave  from  duty  at  ten  A.  M. 
on  the  first  of  June,  1918,  and  that  on  his  re 
turn  he  was  placed  under  arrest,  said  arrest  last 
ing  from  the  first  to  the  second  of  June. 

On  the  last  night  in  camp,  at  a  pine  table 
in  a  tiny  office  cut  off  from  the  lower  squad  room, 
Sergeant  Gray  made  the  above  record  against  his 
own  fair  name,  and  sitting  back  surveyed  it 
grimly.  It  was  two  A.  M.  Across  from  him  .the 
second  mess  sergeant  was  dealing  in  cans  and 
pounds  and  swearing  about  a  missing  cleaver. 

"Did  you  ever  think,"  reflected  Sergeant  Gray, 
leaning  back  in  his  chair  and  tastefully  drawing 
.a  girl's  face  on  his  left  thumb-nail,  "that  the 
time  would  come  when  you'd  be  planning  bran 
muffins  for  the  Old  Man's  breakfast?  What's  a 
bran  muffin,  anyhow?" 

"Horse  feed." 

"Ever  eat  one?" 

"No.    Stop  talking,  won't  you?" 


231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 


Sergeant  Gray  leaned  back  and  stretched  his 
long  arms  high  above  his  head. 

"I've  got  to  talk,"  he  observed.  "If  I  don't 
I'll  go  to  sleep.  Lay  you  two  dollars  to  one  I'm 
asleep  before  you  are." 

"Go  to  the  devil !"  said  the  second  mess  sergeant 
peevishly. 

"Never  had  breakfast  with  the  Old  Man,  did 
you?"  inquired  Sergeant  Gray,  beginning  on  his 
forefinger  with  another  girl's  face. 

There  was  no  reply  to  his  question.  The  sec 
ond  mess  sergeant  was  completely  immersed  in 
beans. 

"Think  the  Old  Man  likes  me,"  went  on  Ser 
geant  Gray  meditatively.  "It's  about  a  week  now 
since  he  told  me  I  was  a  disgrace  to  the  uniform. 
How'd  I  know  I  was  going  to  sneeze  in  his  horse's 
ear  just  as  he  was  climbing  on?" 

"Suffering  snakes !"  cried  the  second  mess  ser 
geant.  "Go  to  bed!  You're  delirious." 

Sergeant  Gray  put  a  dimple  in  the  girl's  cheek 
and  surveyed  it  critically. 

"Yep.  The  old  boy's  crazy  about  me,"  he 
ruminated  aloud.  "Asked  me  the  other  day  if  I 
thought  I'd  fight  the  Germans  as  hard  as  I  fought 
work." 

"Probably  be  asking  you  to  breakfast,"  ob 
served  the  second  mess  sergeant,  beginning  on  a 


8  23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

new  sheet.  "He's  in  the  habit  of  having  noncoms 
to  eat  with  him." 

The  subtlety  of  this  passed  over  Sergeant 
Gray's  head.  He  was  carefully  adding  a  small 
ear  to  his  drawing,  an  ear  which  resembled  an 
interrogation  point.  But  a  seed  had  been  dropped 
on  the  fertile  soil  of  his  mind.  He  finished, 
yawned  again  and  grinned. 

"All  right,"  he  said.  "C'est  la  guerre,  as  the 
old  boy  says.  I'll  lay  you  two  dollars  to  one  I 
eat  breakfast  with  him  within  a  month."  His 
imagination  grew  with  the  thought.  "Wait !  I'll 
eat  bran  muffins  with  him  at  breakfast  within  a 
month.  How's  that?" 

"It's  simple  damn  foolishness,"  observed  the 
second  mess  sergeant.  "I'll  take  you  if  you'll 
go  to  bed  and  lemme  alone." 

"  'Lemme,'  "  observed  Sergeant  Gray,  "is  prob 
ably  Princeton.  In  Harvard  we " 

But  the  second  mess  sergeant  had  picked  up 
the  inkwell  and  was  fingering  it  purposefully. 

"All  right,  dear  old  thing,"  said  Sergeant  Gray. 

And  he  rose,  stretching  his  more  than  six  feet 
to  the  uttermost.  Then  he  made  his  way  through 
the  rows  of  beds  to  the  sergeant's  corner,  and 
removing  his  blouse,  his  breeches,  his  shoes  and 
his  puttees  was  ready  for  sleep.  His  last  waking 
thought  was  of  his  wager. 


23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE  9 

"A  bran  muffin  with  the  Old  Man !"  he  chuckled. 
"A  bran  muffin!  A " 

Something  heavy  landed  on  his  chest  with  a 
great  thump,  and  after  turning  round  once  or 
twice  settled  itself  there  for  the  remainder  of  the 
night.  Lying  on  his  back,  so  as  to  give  his  dog 
the  only  possible  berth  on  the  tiny  bed,  Sergeant 
Gray,  all-American  athlete  and  prime  young  devil 
of  the  Headquarters  Troop,  went  fast  asleep. 

Reveille  the  next  morning,  however,  found  him 
grouchy.  He  kicked  the  dog  off  his  legs,  to  which 
the  animal  had  retired,  and  reaching  under  his 
pillow  brought  out  his  whistle.  He  blew  a  shrill 
blast  on  it.  The  lower  squad  room  groaned, 
turned  over,  closed  its  eyes.  He  blew  again. 

"Roll  out!"  he  yelled  in  stentorian  tones. 
"R-r-roll  out,  you  dirty  horsemen!" 

Then  he  closed  his  eyes  again  and  went  peace 
fully  to  sleep.  He  dreamed  that  the  general  was 
carrying  a  plate  of  bran  muffins  to  his  bedside, 
and  behind  him  was  a  pretty  girl  with  coffee  and 
an  ear  like  an  interrogation  point.  He  wakened 
to  find  breakfast  over  and  the  cook  in  a  bad 
temper. 

"Be  a  sport,  Watt,"  he  pleaded.  "Just  a  cup 
of  coffee,  anyhow." 

"I  fed  your  dog  for  you.    That's  all  you  get." 

"I  can't  eat  the  dog." 


10 23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

"Go  on  out,"  said  the  cook.  "This  ain't  the 
Waldorf-Astoria.  Nor  Childs'  neither." 

"Some  day,  on  the  field  of  honor,"  said  Sergeant 
Gray,  "you  will  lie  wounded,  Watt.  You  will 
beg  for  a  cup  of  water,  and  I  shall  refuse  it, 
saying " 

"Give  him  something  to  get  rid  of  him,"  the 
cook  instructed  his  helper. 

And  Sergeant  Gray  was  fed.  As  he  drank  his 
coffee  he  reflected  as  to  his  wager  of  the  night 
before.  It  appealed  to  his  sporting  instinct  but 
not  to  his  reason.  He  had  exactly  as  much  chance 
to  eat  a  bran  muffin  with  the  general  as  he  had 
to  sign  peace  terms  with  the  Kaiser. 

He  drank  his  tepid  coffee  and  surveyed  his 
finger  nails  disconsolately.  The  faces  had  only 
partially  disappeared  during  his  morning's  ablu 
tion. 

"This  is  the  life,  Watt!"  he  said  to  the  cook. 
"Wine,  women  and  song,  eh?" 

But  the  cook  was  cutting  his  finger  nails,  pre 
paratory  to  morning  inspection. 

Now  the  ink  pictures  on  Sergeant  Gray's  finger 
nails  had  a  certain  significance.  They  bore,  to  be 
exact,  a  certain  faint  resemblance  to  a  young 
lady  whose  photograph  was  now  concealed  against 
inspection  in  the  sergeant's  condiment  can.  The 


23V2  HOURS'   LEAVE 11 

young  lady  in  question  had  three  days  before 
wired  the  sergeant  to  this  effect : 

"Married  Bud  Palmer  yesterday.  Please  wish 
me  happiness." 

To  which,  concealing  a  deep  hurt,  the  sergeant 
had  replied:  "Praying  earnestly  for  you  both." 

He  was,  then,  womanless.  No  one  loved  him. 
He  was  going  to  war,  and  no  one  would  mourn 
him — except  the  family,  of  course.  The  effect 
of  the  tepid  coffee  on  his  empty  stomach  was 
merely  to  confirm  his  morning  unhappiness.  No 
one  loved  him  and  he  had  made  a  fool  bet  that 
by  now  was  all  over  the  troop. 

At  mess  he  knew  what  he  stood  committed  to. 
"Please  pass  the  bran  muffins,"  came  loudly  to  his 
ears.  And  scraps  of  conversation  like  this : 

"But  you  see,  dear  old  thing,  I  didn't  know 
your  horse  was  going  to  stick  his  head  under  my 
nose  when  I  sneezed." 

Or: 

"But,  my  dear  general,  the  weakness  of  the 
division  lies  in  your  staff.  Now,  if  I  were  doing 
it " 

By  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  troop  were 
ready  to  move.  And  Sergeant  Gray  went  into 
the  town.  There  he  tried  on  a  new  uniform — and 
the  story  of  Sergeant  Gray's  new  uniform  is  the 
story  of  the  bran  muffins. 


12  231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

It  was  really  a  beautiful  uniform.  Almost  it 
took  away  the  sting  of  that  telegram;  almost  it 
obliterated  the  memory  of  the  wager.  It  spread 
over  his  broad  shoulders  and  hugged  his  slim 
waist.  The  breeches  were  full  above  and  close 
below.  For  the  first  time  he  felt  every  inch  a 
soldier. 

He  carried  the  old  uniform  back  to  camp  and 
gave  it  to  the  cook. 

"Here,  xWatt !"  he  said.  "You've  been  grum 
bling  about  clothes.  Cut  the  chevrons  off  it,  and 
it's  yours." 

"Well,  look  who's  here !"  said  Watt  admiring 
ly.  "Thought  you  fellows  had  to  wear  issue 
stuff." 

"Laws  are  for  slaves,  Watt." 

"Keep  it  nice,"  observed  the  cook  gracelessly. 
"You'll  need  it  for  that  breakfast  with  the  gen 
eral." 

"Wait  and  see,"  said  Sergeant  Gray  jauntily, 
but  with  no  hope  in  his  heart. 

The  new  uniform  was  the  cause  of  much  invidi 
ous  comment.  Most  of  it  resembled  the  cook's. 
But  Sergeant  Gray  was  busy.  To  pass  inspection 
he  was  obliged  to  borrow  from  the  neighbouring 
beds,  left  unguarded,  certain  articles  in  which  he 
was  deficient,  namely:  Undershirt,  cotton,  one; 


23V2  HOURS'  LEAVE 13 

sock§,  light  wool,  pairs,  two;  underbreeches,  cot 
ton,  pairs,  one. 

Thus  miscellaneously  assembled  he  passed  in 
spection.  He  drew  a  deep  breath,  however,  when 
no  notice  was  taken  of  the  new  and  forbidden 
uniform  and  when  the  photograph  of  Mrs.  Bud 
Palmer  still  lay  rolled  up  and  undiscovered  in 
his  condiment  can. 

During  the  afternoon  he  wandered  over  to  the 
depot  brigade  and  left  his  dog  there  with  a  lieu 
tenant  who  had  promised  to  look  after  him.  The 
sense  of  depression  and  impending  doom  had 
overtaken  him  again.  He  stopped  at  the  post  ex 
change  and  bought  a  dozen  doughnuts,  which  he 
carried  with  him  in  a  paper  bag. 

"Might  feed  him  one  of  these  now  and  then," 
he  suggested.  "He's  going  to  miss  me  like  the 
devil.  He's  a  nice  mutt."  His  voice  was  a  trifle 
husky. 

"Not  fond  of  bran  muffins,  I  suppose?" 

The  lieutenant's  voice  was  impersonal.  Ser 
geant  Gray  eyed  him  suspiciously,  but  his  eyes 
were  on  the  dog. 

"Don't  know.  Never  tried  them,"  he  said,  and 
walked  off  with  great  dignity. 

So  that  was  it,  eh  ?  It  was  all  over  the  division 
already.  Well,  he'd  show  them!  He'd 

The  general,  on  horseback  and  followed  by  his 


14  231/0  HOURS'  LEAVE 

aids,  went  by.  Sergeant  Gray  stopped  and  rigidly 
saluted,  but  the  general's  eyes  and  his  mind  were 
far  away.  Sergeant  Gray  looked  after  him  with 
bitterness  in  his  heart.  Just  at  that  moment  he 
hated  the  Army.  He  hated  the  general.  Most 
of  all  he  hated  to  the  depths  of  his  soul  those 
smug  young  officers  who  were  the  general's  aids- 
de-camp,  and  who  ate  with  him,  and  swanked  in 
and  out  of  Headquarters,  and  ordered  horses  from 
the  troop  stables  whenever  they  wanted  them,  and 
brought  in  their  muddy  automobiles  to  be  cleaned, 
and  sat  with  their  feet  on  the  general's  desk  in 
his  absence  and  smoked  his  cigarettes. 

However,  he  cheered  somewhat  during  the  eve 
ning.  They  were  ready  to  move.  No  more  drill 
on  hot  and  dusty  parade  grounds.  No  more  long 
hikes.  No  more  digging  and  shoveling  and  push 
ing  of  wagon  trains  out  of  the  mud.  No  more 
infantry  range,  where  a  chap  in  the  pit  waved  a 
red  flag  every  time  dust  in  a  fellow's  eyes  caused 
a  miss,  and  the  men  round  hissed  "Raspberry!" 
No  more  bayonet  school,  where  one  jabbed  a 
bunch  of  green  branches  representing  the  enemy, 
and  asked  breathlessly  how  it  liked  it.  "War's 
hell,  you  know,  old  top,"  he  had  been  wont  to 
say,  and  had  given  the  bunch  another  poke  for 
luck. 

Before,  ahead,  loomed  the  port  of  embarkation. 


23V2  HOURS'   LEAVE  15 

The  one  imminent  question  of  the  barracks  was — 
leave.  Were  they  to  have  leave  or  were  they  not  ? 
To  Sergeant  Gray  the  matter  was  of  grave  im 
portance.  Leave  meant  a  call  on  Mrs.  Bud  Pal 
mer  the  faithless,  in  the  new  uniform,  and  the 
ceremonious  returning  to  her  of  the  photograph 
in  the  condiment  can.  Then  it  meant  finding  a 
nice  girl — he  was  rather  vague  here — and  going 
to  the  theatre  and  supper  afterward,  and  perhaps 
to  a  roof  garden  still  later. 

"I'll  show  her,"  he  muttered  between  his  teeth. 
But  the  her  was  Mrs.  Palmer. 

In  their  preparations  for  departure  the  wager 
slipped  from  the  minds  of  the  troop.  At  two- 
thirty  in  the  morning  they  went  ostensibly  on  a 
hike,  in  full  marching  order,  which  meant  ex 
tremely  full — for  a  cavalry  troop  dismounted 
must  carry  their  own  equipment  and  a  part  that 
normally  belongs  on  the  horse.  Went  on  a  hike, 
not  to  return. 

"Everything  on  me  but  the  kitchen  stove," 
grumbled  Sergeant  Gray,  and  edged  gingerly 
through  the  doorway  to  join  the  line  outside. 
With  extreme  caution,  because  only  the  entire 
balance  of  the  division  and  the  people  in  three 
near-by  towns  knew  that  they  were  moving,  they 
made  their  way  to  a  railway  siding  and  there 
entrained. 


16 23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

It  was  dawn  when  the  cars  moved  out.  Ser 
geant  Gray  had  secured  a  window  seat,  and  kept 
it  in  spite  of  heroic  efforts  to  oust  him.  All  round 
was  his  equipment,  packed  tight,  his  saddlebags, 
his  blanket  roll,  his  rifle  and  bandoleer,  a  dozen 
oranges  in  a  paper  sack,  as  many  doughnuts.  Over 
and  round  him,  leaning  out  of  his  window  at 
the  imminent  danger  of  their  lives,  were  the  sup 
ply  sergeant,  the  second  mess  sergeant,  the  stable 
sergeant  and  two  corporals. 

"Not  crowded,  are  you,  general?"  asked  the 
stable  sergeant  politely. 

The  title  stuck.  Ke  was  general  to  the  entire 
troop  after  that:  behind  his  back,  to  the  enlisted 
men;  to  his  face  and  very,  very  politely,  to  the 
other  noncoms. 

"Oh,  go  to  hell !"  they  finally  tortured  out  of 
him;  and  they  retired,  grinning,  until  some  wit 
or  other  would  walk  down  the  aisle,  salute  gravely 
and  say :  "Wish  to  report  that  bran  muffins  are 
on  the  way,  sir." 

And  as  the  train  moved  out  the  car  took  up 
that  message  of  the  artillery  when  a  gun  is  fired. 
"On  the  way !"  they  yelled.  "On  the  way !  Bran 
muffin  Number  One  on  the  way." 

"Been  pretty  busy,  haven't  you?"  he  asked 
when  at  last  the  train  had  settled  down  to  com- 


23i/2  HOURS'   LEAVE 17 

parative  quiet  and  the  second  mess  sergeant  was 
beside  him. 

"Not  half  as  busy  as  you'll  have  to  be  if  you're 
going  to  make  good." 

However,  the  troop's  attention,  fickle  as  the 
love  of  the  mob,  turned  at  last  away  from  him 
and  focused  on  the  coloured  porter.  They  in 
sisted  that  he  was  of  draft  age,  and  that  it  was 
the  custom  anyhow  to  take  the  train  crew  to 
France  with  the  troops  it  carried.  They  sug 
gested  craps,  and  on  his  protesting  that  he  had 
no  money  they  forced  him  to  turn  his  pockets 
out,  at  the  point  of  a  revolver.  And  boylike, 
having  bullied  him  until  he  was  pale,  they  loaded 
him  with  cigarettes,  candy,  fruit  and  abuse. 

The  Headquarters  Troop  had  a  train  of  their 
own.  Up  behind  the  engine  was  the  baggage  car, 
turned  into  a  kitchen  with  field  ranges  set  up 
and  the  cooks  already  at  work.  Behind  was  the 
long  line  of  tourist  sleepers,  each  with  its  grinning 
but  slightly  apprehensive  porter.  And  at  the  rear, 
where  general  officers  of  importance  are  always 
kept  in  war,  was  a  Pullman  containing  the  divi 
sional  staff. 

When  breakfast,  served  from  the  baggage  car, 
was  being  carried  down  the  aisles  the  train  pulled 
into  a  tunnel  and  stopped.  It  was  a  very  hot 
day,  and  in  through  the  open  windows  rolled 


18 231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

black  and  choking  clouds  of  smoke.  The  troop 
coughed  and  cursed ;  but  a  moment  later  they  burst 
into  wild  whoops  of  joy.  The  engine  had  pulled 
on  a  hundred  yards  or  so,  leaving  the  staff  car 
in  the  tunnel. 

The  windows  were  full  of  jeering  boys,  eyes 
bent  eagerly  toward  the  rear.  The  end  of  the 
tunnel  belched  smoke  like  an  iron  furnace,  and 
into  it  the  joyous  whoops  of  the  troop  penetrated 
like  the  maniacal  yells  of  demons. 

The  general,  who  had  just  buttered  a  bran 
muffin,  looked  up  and  scowled.  He  took  a  bite 
of  the  muffin,  but  he  was  eating  smoke. 

"What  the "  he  sputtered.  "Get  this  car 

moved  on,  somebody !"  he  shouted. 

The  staff  sat  still  and  pretended  it  was  not 
present. 

"Woof,  woof!"  said  the  general  in  a  furious 
cough.  "Listen  to  those — woof,  woof! — young 
devils!  Move  this  train  on,  somebody!  What 
have  I  got  a  staff  for  anyhow  ?" 

The  train  stood  still  and  conversation  lan 
guished.  There  are  only  two  things  to  be  done 
when  a  general  is  angry:  One  is  to  get  behind 
the  furniture  and  pretend  one  is  not  there;  the 
other  is  to  distract  his  mind.  The  general's  ire 
growing  and  the  car  remaining  in  the  tunnel,  an 


231/2  HOURS'   LEAVE  19 

aide  whom  the  general  called  Tommy  when  no 
one  was  near  ventured  to  speak. 

"Rather  an  amusing  story  going  round,  sir,"  he 
said.  "Woof !  One  of  the  sergeants  in  the  Head 
quarters  Troop  has  made  a  wager — woof ! — woof, 
sir ! — sir — that  he " 

"I  don't  want  to  hear  anything  about  the  Head 
quarters  Troop,"  snarled  the  general.  "Woof! 
Bunch  of  second-story  workers !" 

The  aide  subsided.  But  somewhat  later,  when 
the  car  had  moved  on  and  the  general  was  smoking 
an  excellent  cigar,  the  general  said:  "What  was 
the  wager,  Tommy?" 

"I  believe,  sir,  it  is  to  the  effect  that  within  a 
month  this  fellow  will  breakfast  with  you,  sir. 
To  be  exact,  will  eat  a  bran  muffin  with  you." 

The  general  exhaled  a  large  mouthful  of  smoke. 

"Cest  la  guerre!"  he  said.  He  had  been  study 
ing  French  for  two  weeks.  "C'est  la  guerre, 
Tommy.  Queer  things  happen  these  days.  But  I 
think  it  unlikely.  Very,  very  unlikely." 


II 

SERGEANT -GRAY  was  extremely  contented. 
He  sat  back  in  his  seat  and  alternately 
nibbled  doughnuts  and  puffed  at  a  cigarette.  Be 
fore  him,  stretched  as  far  as  the  limitations  per 
mitted,  were  two  long  and  well-breeched  legs, 
ending  in  tan  shoes  listed  by  the  supply  sergeant 
as  "Shoes,  field,  pair,  size  1 1  EE." 

He  had  surreptitiously  taken  out  Mrs.  Bud 
Palmer's  photograph  and  decided  that  her  face 
was  shallow.  And  after  a  moment's  hesitation  he 
had  decided  not  to  waste  any  part  of  his  precious 
leave  in  returning  it.  So  he  had  torn  it  into  bits 
and  thrown  it  out  of  the  window.  Then  he  had 
taken  a  piece  of  paper  and,  writing  on  it  "This 
space  to  let,"  had  placed  it  in  the  condiment  can 
and  put  the  can  back  in  his  saddlebags. 

The  reason  of  his  content  was  that  leave  was 
now  assured.  At  eleven  o'clock  that  morning  the 
general's  field  secretary  had  typed  on  a  shaky  field 
machine  that  stood  on  an  equally  unsteady  tripod 
the  order  that  at  the  port  of  embarkation  twenty 
per  cent  of  the  men  would  be  allowed  each  day 
some  twenty-three  and  a  half  hours'  leave. 

20 


23l/2  HOURS'   LEAVE 21 

Wild  cheers  in  each  car  had  followed  the  read 
ing  of  the  order.  Wild  cheers  and  wild  plans.  Ser 
geant  Gray  dreamed,  doughnut  in  one  hand  and 
cigarette  in  the  other.  Twenty-three  and  a  half 
hours!  A  lot  could  happen  in  twenty-three  and 
a  half  hours.  His  dreams  were  general  rather 
than  concrete.  Girls,  theatres  and  food  comprised 
them.  No  particular  girl,  no  particular  theatre, 
no  particular  food.  He  would  call  up  some  of 
the  fellows  from  college,  and  they  would  have 
sisters.  And  when  he  had  gone  to  the  other  side 
they  would  write  to  him. 

He  had  no  sentimental  affiliations  now.  He 
had  put  all  his  eggs  in  one  basket  and  the  basket 
had  been  stolen. 

"Lucky  I'm  not  dependent  on  eggs  for  food !" 
he  mused  and,  mistaking  the  hand  in  which  he 
held  the  doughnut,  bit  vigorously  into  his  cigarette. 

Nevertheless  his  spirits  grew  lower  as  the  day 
went  on.  It  had  occurred  to  him  that  all  the 
fellows  he  had  counted  on  for  sisters  would  be 
in  the  Army,  like  himself.  He  cut  off  girls  from 
his  list,  on  that  discovery ;  but  food  and  theatres 
remained.  He  reflected  rather  defiantly  that  he 
could  have  a  good  time  without  girls;  and  then 
considered  that  a  chap  who  lied  to  himself  was  in 
the  class  with  a  fellow  who  cheated  at  solitaire. 

The  day  was  hot.     Kindly  women  at  stations 


22 231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

passed  in  sandwiches  and  coffee,  and  the  troop, 
with  the  eternal  appetite  of  twenty-odd,  gorged 
themselves  and  cheered  in  overhanging  pyramids 
from  the  windows.  The  corporals  on  guard  be 
tween  the  cars  slept  on  seats  improvised  of  saddle 
bags,  and  between  naps  rolled  cigarettes.  And  the 
noncoms  in  their  corner  inveigled  the  porter  to  a 
game  of  crap,  and  took  from  him  his  week's  ac 
cumulation  of  tips. 

At  the  end  of  the  game  Sergeant  Gray  took  out 
his  money  and  counted  it. 

"Looks  like  you'd  be  able  to  give  the  Old  Man 
a  right  good  breakfast,"  observed  the  stable  ser 
geant. 

"Oh,  it's  to  be  his  breakfast,"  said  Sergeant 
Gray  recklessly. 

"It  is,  is  it  ?"  The  stable  sergeant  regarded  him 
with  admiration.  "Want  to  bet  on  it  ?" 

"Just  as  you  like,"  was  the  cool  answer. 

"Look  here,"  said  the  stable  sergeant,  aware  of 
an  audience.  "I'll  lay  you  five  to  one  you  don't 
breakfast  with  him  at  all ;  ten  to  one  you  don't  do 
it  on  his  invitation,  and" — he  hesitated  for  effect 
— "twenty  to  one  you  don't  do  it  within  a  week." 

"Good!"  said  Sergeant  Gray,  and  laid  some 
bills  on  his  knee.  "I'd  wager  I  could  pull  the 
Crown  Prince's  nose  at  those  odds.  Then  if  I  do 
breakfast  with  him  within  a  week  on  his  invita- 


23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 23 

tion  you'll  owe  me  a  hundred  and  seventy-five 
dollars." 

"I  wish  my  money  was  as  safe  in  the  bank." 
But  the  stable  sergeant  was  vaguely  uncomfort 
able.  Those  college  chaps  had  a  way  of  putting 
things  over.  He  went  out  on  the  platform  and 
stared  uneasily  at  the  flying  scenery. 

Sergeant  Gray  folded  his  new  uniform  under 
the  mattress  of  his  berth  that  night.  It  was  bad 
for  the  collar,  but  he  did  it  lest  worse  befall  it. 
He  suspected  the  troop  of  jealous  designs  on  it. 
But  he  could  not  fold  himself  away  so  easily,  and 
lay  diagonally,  with  two  Number  Eleven  Double 
E  feet  in  the  aisle.  At  four  in  the  morning  he 
wakened,  the  cause  being  a  dream  that  he  had  for 
,some  hours  been  walking  in  a  puddle  and  needed 
to  change  his  shoes. 

Still  only  half  awake,  he  looked  at  his  feet,  to 
perceive  that  some  wag  had  neatly  blackened  them 
with  shoe  polish  from  the  porter's  closet.  He  im 
mediately  reached  under  his  pillow  for  his  whistle 
and  blew  a  shrill  blast  on  it,  followed  by  a  sten 
torian  roar. 

"Roll  out,  you  dirty  horsemen!  R-r-roll  out!" 
he  yelled. 

Still  half  asleep,  they  roused  at  the  familiar 
sounds.  Grunting  and  protesting  they  sat  up. 
From  the  berth  over  him  a  corporal  swung  down 


24 23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

two  long  bare  legs  and  sat  on  the  edge,  yawning. 
Then  somebody  looked  at  a  watch.  There  would 
have  been  a  small  riot,  but  the  men  were  too 
sleepy  and  too  relieved.  They  tumbled  back,  and 
Sergeant  Gray  lay  on  his  pillow  and  grinned  vin 
dictively. 

He  did  not  go  to  sleep  at  once.  He  lay  there 
and  thought  of  his  wager,  and  cursed  himself  for 
a  fool.  Then  he  dismissed  that  and  thought  of 
his  twenty-three  and  a  half  hours'  leave.  If  only 
there  were  a  girl — a  nice  girl.  He  did  not  want 
the  sort  of  girl  a  fellow  picked  up  in  the  streets. 
He  wanted  a  real  girl,  the  sort  a  fellow  could  write 
to  later  on. 

Little  quickenings  of  romance  stirred  in  his 
heart.  A  pretty  girl,  preferably  small.  He  liked 
them  little,  with  pointed  chins.  They  had  a  way, 
the  little  girls  with  pointed  chins,  of  looking  up 
at  a  fellow 

He  wakened  at  seven.  The  troop  were  still 
sleeping,  but  from  the  baggage  car  ahead  there 
floated  back  an  odor  of  frying  bacon,  and  on  the 
platform  of  a  station  outside — for  the  train  had 
stopped — the  general  was  taking  an  airing. 

Sergeant  Gray  blew  his  whistle.  "R-r-roll 
out!"  he  yelled.  "R-r-roll  out,  you  blooming  sons 
of  guns!" 

And,  to  emphasize  his  authority,  he  lifted  a 


231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE  25 

strong  and  muscular  pair  of  legs  and  raised  the 
upper  berth,  in  which  the  corporal  still  slept. 
Smothered  sounds  from  above  convincing  him 
that  his  efforts  had  been  successful  he  dropped  the 
upper  berth  with  a  jerk. 

"R-r-roll  out,  up  there!"  he  yelled;  and  whistle 
in  hand  he  lay  back  to  the  succulent  enjoyment  of 
an  orange. 

Across  from  him  the  stable  sergeant  had  turned 
on  his  back  for  another  nap.  Through  the  cur 
tains,  opened  against  the  heat,  Gray  could  see  that 
young  gentleman's  broad  chest  rising  and  falling 
slowly.  The  temptation  and  destiny  were  too 
strong  for  him.  He  bounced  an  orange  on  it,  only 
to  see  it  rebound  through  the  window  and  to  hear 
a  deafening  roar.  The  stable  sergeant  sat  up,  a 
hand  on  his  chest  and  fire  in  his  eyes.  He  blinked 
into  the  distorted  face  of  the  general,  outside  the 
window.  The  general  was  holding  a  hand  to  his 
left  ear. 

"Who  threw  that  orange?"  demanded  the  gen 
eral. 

"Wh-what  orange,  sir?" 

"Don't  lie  to  me.  It  came  out  of  this  win 
dow." 

"I  was  asleep,  sir.  Something  struck  me  on  the 
chest.  I  didn't  see  it,  sir !" 

Behind  his  curtains  Sergeant  Gray  had  been 


26 23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

struggling  into  his  trousers.  He  emerged  now, 
slightly  pale  but  determined. 

"I  threw  it,  sir,"  he  explained.  "I  had  no  idea 
— it  bounced,  sir." 

The  general  surveyed  him  grimly. 

"It's  a  curious  thing,  sergeant,"  he  said,  "that 
when  there  is  any  deviltry  going  on  in  the  Head 
quarters  Troop  I  find  you  at  the  bottom  of  it. 
Report  to  me  in  my  car  at  eight  o'clock." 

Then  he  stalked  away. 

Down  the  car  a  sonorous  bass  spoke  from  be 
hind  a  curtain:  "The  commanding  general  pre 
sents  his  compliments  to  Sergeant  Gray,  and  will 
Sergeant  Gray  breakfast  with  him  in  his  private 
car  at  eight  o'clock?" 

Sergeant  Gray  dressed  hastily.  There  was  the 
bitterness  of  despair  in  his  heart,  for  he  knew 
what  was  coming.  He  would  have  no  twenty- 
three  and  a  half  hours'  leave,  no  theatres,  no  de 
cent  food,  no  girl.  And  over  his  head  still  that 
idiotic  bet. 

"Oh,  hell !"  he  muttered,  and  started  back. 

The  general  was  still  in  a  very  bad  temper,  and 
his  left  ear  was  swollen  and  purple.  He  lost  no 
time  in  the  attack — he  believed  in  striking  swiftly 
and  hard — and  he  read  off,  from  an  excellent 
memory,  the  tale  of  Sergeant  Gray's  various  sins 
of  commission.  But  he  did  not  go  so  far  as  he 


231/0  HOURS'   LEAVE  27 

meant  to  go,  at  that.  In  the  first  place,  Gray  was 
an  excellent  noncom,  and  in  the  second  place  there 
was  something  in  the  boy's  upstanding  figure  and 
clear  if  worried  eyes  that,  coupled  with  another 
of  the  excellent  cigars,  inclined  him  to  leniency. 

"But  remember  this,  Gray,"  he  finished  severe 
ly,  "I  don't  usually  meddle  with  these  things. 
But  I've  got  my  eye  on  you.  One  more  infraction 
of  discipline,  and  you'll  lose  your  stripes." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Sergeant  Gray. 

He  was  intolerably  virtuous  all  that  day. 

Late  that  afternoon  they  detrained  two  miles 
from  the  new  camp,  and  marched  along,  singing 
lustily  songs  that  sound  better  than  they  look  in 
print,  and  joyously  stretching  legs  too  long  con 
fined.  It  mattered  nothing  to  them  that  the  tem 
porary  camp  was  untidy  and  badly  drained ;  that 
the  general  passing  in  a  limousine  was  reading  an 
order  that  meant  an  emergency  abroad,  into  which 
they  were  to  be  thrown  at  once;  that  a  certain 
percentage  of  them  would  never  come  back;  and 
that  a  certain  other  percentage  would  return, 
never  again  to  tramp  the  open  road  or  to  see  the 
blue  sky  overhead. 

But  a  girl  in  a  little  car  trailing  in  the  dust  be 
hind  the  staff  cars  thought  of  those  things,  and 
almost  ran  over  the  company  goat,  Eloise,  because 
of  tears. 


231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 


"Darned  little  idiot!"  murmured  Sergeant 
Gray,  and  gave  his  last  doughnut  to  Eloise. 

There  was  no  thrill,  no  increase  over  the  reg 
ular  seventy-six  beats  a  minute  of  his  heart  to  tell 
him  that  love  had  just  passed  by  in  a  pink  hat. 

Until  eight-thirty  that  night  Sergeant  Gray 
was  obnoxiously  virtuous.  He  had  met  an  Eng 
lish  noncom  in  the  camp,  and  was  studiously  en 
deavouring  to  copy  that  gentleman's  carriage  and 
dignity.  And  the  attraction  of  the  new  surround 
ings  had  turned  the  attention  of  the  troop  from 
him  and  his  wager  to  other  things.  A  discovery, 
too,  of  certain  conditions  in  the  barracks  dis 
tracted  them. 

"A  week  here,"  growled  the  second  mess  ser 
geant,  "and  we'll  all  have  to  be  dipped." 

"Might  as  well  get  used  to  it,  old  son,"  said 
Sergeant  Gray,  and  hummed  a  little  ditty  to  the 
effect  that  "They  are  wild,  simply  wild,  over 
me." 

But  with  the  falling  of  darkness  the  high  spir 
its  of  the  crowd  broke  loose.  That  night  there 
was  a  battle  royal  in  the  barracks.  The  lower 
squad  room,  which  housed  among  others  the  N. 
C.  O.'s,  decided  to  raid  the  two  upper  squad  rooms. 
Word  of  this  having  been  passed  up,  the  upper 
squad  rooms  were  prepared.  At  the  top  of  the 
stairs  were  stationed  the  fire  buckets,  filled  to  the 


231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 29 

top,  and  a  pile  of  coal  stolen  from  the  kitchen  and 
secretly  conveyed  to  the  upper  floor  by  means  of 
baskets,  a  window  and  a  rope. 

Twice  the  lower  squad  reached  the  top  of  the 
staircase,  amid  wild  yells  and  much  splashing  of 
water.  The  hall  and  stairs  were  running  small 
rivers.  Coals,  recklessly  flung  down,  were  sal 
vaged  like  hand  grenades  by  the  attacking  force 
and  thrown  back  again. 

The  noise  penetrated  to  august  quarters,  and 
the  sentry  at  the  door,  placed  there  for*  just  such 
an  emergency,  having  been  infected  with  the  mad 
desire  to  fight,  and  being  at  that  moment  in  the 
act  of  climbing  the  coal  rope  to  attack  the  enemy 
from  the  rear,  an  officer  with  a  flash  was  at  the 
door  before  he  was  seen. 

Followed  instantaneous  quiet  with  the  only 
sound  the  dripping  of  water  down  the  stairs.  Fol 
lowed  the  silent  retreat  of  the  warriors  to  beds, 
into  which  they  crept  fully  dressed.  The  officer 
moved  through  the  lower  squad  room.  It  was  ex 
tremely  quiet  save  for  an  occasional  deep-throated 
snore.  The  officer  smiled  grimly  and  went  away. 

And  in  the  darkness  Sergeant  Gray  sat  up  and 
felt  of  his  right  eye. 

In  the  early  dawn,  hearing  the  cook  stirring,  he 
went  across  to  the  mess  hall,  a  strange  figure  in 
his  undergarments,  with  one  eye  closed  and  a 


30 23l/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

bruise  on  his  forehead  as  big  as  an  egg.  The 
cook  eyed  him  angrily,  and  addressed  him  with 
out  regard  to  his  dignity  as  a  sergeant. 

"Some  o'  you  fellows  get  busy  and  bring  back 
that  coal  you  took  last  night,"  he  said.  "I  got 
something  else  to  do." 

"Look  here,  Watt,"  said  Sergeant  Gray  appeal- 
ingly,  "I'll  get  the  coal  for  you  all  right.  But 
give  me  a  piece  of  raw  beefsteak,  won't  you? 
Look  at  this  eye." 

"Pleased  to  see  it,"  said  the  cook  with  a  vin 
dictive  glare. 

"Forget  it,  Watt.  I'll  get  your  coal.  See  here, 
I've  got  leave  to-morrow,  and  I  want  to  go  to  the 
city." 

"Well,  you  can  go,  for  all  of  me." 

"I  want,"  said  Sergeant  Gray  plaintively,  "to 
get  my  picture  taken.  I  want  to  send  it  to  my 
mother." 

Suddenly  the  cook  laughed.  He  leaned  over 
the  big  serving  counter  and  laughed  until  he  was 
weak. 

"Picture!"  he  said.  "My  word!  She'll  think 
the  Germans  have  had  you!  Say,  give  me  one, 
will  you?" 

He  went  to  the  refrigerator,  however,  and 
brought  out  a  piece  of  raw  beef. 

It  should  have  warned  Sergeant  Gray,  lying 


23V2  HOURS'  LEAVE  31 

sulkily  on  his  cot  through  that  bright  spring  day, 
the  beef  over  his  eye  and  attracting  a  multitude 
of  flies,  that  no  one  else  had  suffered  visible  in 
jury.  The  boys  came  and  went  blithely,  each  in 
tent  on  his  own  affairs.  United  action  had  cleaned 
up  the  hallway  and  the  stairs.  But  Sergeant 
Gray,  picked  out  as  Fate's  victim,  lay  and  dozed 
and  struck  at  flies  and — waited. 

By  night  the  swelling  had  gone,  but  a  deep  blu 
ish  shadow  encircled  the  right  eye.  Frequent  con 
sultation  of  his  shaving  mirror  told  him  that  he 
would  have  the  mark  for  days,  but  at  least  he 
could  see.  That  was  something.  He  got  up  after 
dusk  and  dressed  in  the  new  uniform.  Then  he 
wandered  about  the  camp. 

He  felt  very  lonely.  Most  of  his  intimates 
were  on  leave.  Round  the  camp  the  men  lounged 
negligently.  Some  one  with  a  mandolin  was 
strumming  it,  and  from  the  theatre,  where  a  movie 
show  was  going  on,  came  the  rattle  of  clapping 
hands.  Sergeant  Gray  hesitated  at  the  door,  then 
he  moved  on. 

What  he  wanted  was  some  one  to  talk  to,  a  girl 
preferably.  He  wandered  past  division  head 
quarters,  where  the  chief  of  staff  stood  inside  a 
window  rolling  a  cigarette ;  past  the  bull  pen,  sur 
rounded  by  its  fifteen  feet  of  barbed  wire  and  its 
military  police. 


32  23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

At  the  edge  of  the  camp  he  halted.  From  there 
one  could  see  a  brilliance  reflected  in  the  sky — 
the  lights  of  the  port  of  embarkation,  ten  miles 
away. 

Sergeant  Gray  sighed  and  sat  down  on  the  road 
near  an  automobile.  And  somebody  spoke  to  him. 

"Can  I  take  you  anywhere?"  asked  the  voice. 

It  was  young  and  feminine.  Something  that 
had  been  aching  in  Sergeant  Gray's  deep  chest 
suddenly  stopped  aching  and  leaped. 

"Thanks,"  he  said.  "I'm  not  going  anywhere 
in  particular." 

"I  just  thought" — explained  the  voice — "I'm 
waiting  for  the — for  a  relative  and  I  might  as 
well  be  taking  people  to  the  street-car  line.  The 
taxis  have  stopped." 

A  car  leaving  the  camp  threw  its  lights  on  her. 
She  was  small  and  young  and  had  a  pointed  chin. 
Sergeant  Gray  got  up. 

"It's  awfully  good  of  you,"  he  said.  "If  it 
isn't  too  much  trouble  I'll  go  to  the  end  of  the 
line." 

"Get  in,"  she  said  briefly. 

Sergeant  Gray  sat  back  in  the  little  car  and 
drew  a  long  breath. 

"It's  rather  small  for  you,  isn't  it?"  asked  the 
girl,  throwing  in  the  clutch.  "My  brother  has  to 
fold  up  too.  He's  in  France,"  she  added.  "That's 


231/0  HOURS'  LEAVE 33 

why  I  like  to  do  things  for  the  soldiers  here.  It's 
like  doing  something  for  him." 

Sergeant  Gray  pondered  this.  He  considered 
it  rather  an  unusual  thing  for  a  girl  to  have 
thought  of.  He  considered  that  she  was  as  nice 
as  she  was  pretty.  He  also  considered  that  she 
drove  well.  Sergeant  Gray,  who  in  his  leisure 
hours  practiced  running  a  motorcycle  with  the  side 
car  in  the  air,  paid  her  tribute  of  approval. 

"We'll  be  over  soon,"  he  said  with  a  touch  of 
pride. 

"You'd  better  not  tell  anybody  that." 

"Why?  I  rather  think  our  being  here  tells  the 
story." 

"Well,  a  lot  of  people  would  like  to  know  just 
when  you're  going.  They  hang  round  the  men 
and  offer  them  rides  in  cars,  and  the  men  get  to 
talking,  and  pretty  soon  they've  told  all  they 
know." 

"They'd  better  not  try  it  on  me." 

"You  almost  told  me  a  moment  ago." 

Sergeant  Gray  sat  quiet  and  a  trifle  hurt. 

"I  am  only  warning  you,"  said  the  girL 
"There  are  spies  simply  everywhere.  I  can't  do 
much,  and  that's  my  way  of  doing  something. 
That  and  being  a  sort  of  taxi,"  she  added. 

They  were  in  a  town  now,  and  by  the  lamps  he 
saw  just  how  pretty  she  was. 


34 23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

"Thanks  awfully  for  warning  me,"  he  said 
rather  humbly.  "A  fellow  gets  to  think  that  all 
this  spy  talk  is — just  talk." 

"Well,  it  isn't,"  said  the  girl  briefly  but  with 
the  air  of  one  who  knew. 

The  sergeant  eyed  her  askance. 

"That  sounds  as  though  you  knew  something." 

"Perhaps  I  do.  Though  of  course  one  doesn't 
really  know  these  things.  One  suspects." 

"Naturally  one  does." 

She  glanced  at  him,  but  his  face  was  grave. 

"What  I  would  like  to  know,"  he  proceeded, 
"is  what  one  does  when  one  suspects." 

"I  am  afraid  you  are  trying  to  be  funny,"  she 
observed  coldly,  and  brought  the  car  to  a  stand 
still.  "Here's  your  car  line." 

He  hesitated.    Then  he  made  a  wild  resolve. 

"I  see  it,"  he  said  agreeably.  "Thanks  awfully 
for  bringing  me.  We  can  go  back  now." 

She  stared  at  him. 

"You  are  not  going  anywhere?" 

"Why,  no,"  he  said,  trying  not  to  look  con 
scious.  "I  said  that  I'd  like  to  go  to  the  end  of 
the  car  line." 

"You're  there." 

"I  only  wanted  to  look  at  it." 

"Very  well.  Get  out  and  look  at  it.  I  don't 
think  you'll  find  it  unusual  in  any  way." 


23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 35 

"Look  here,"  he  said  humbly.  "I'm  awfully 
sorry.  I  was  just  hungry  to  talk  to  some  one,  and 
when  you  offered " 

"I  have  done  exactly  as  I  offered.  You  will 
please  get  out !" 

He  got  out  slowly.  He  was  overcome  with 
wretchedness  and  guilt,  but  her  pointed  chin  was 
held  high  and  her  face  was  obstinate. 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  said  Sergeant  Gray, 
and  turning  drearily  commenced  his  lonely  walk 
back  to  camp. 

He  could  hear  her  behind  him  backing  and 
turning  in  the  narrow  street.  He  plodded  on, 
cursing  himself.  If  he  had  had  any  sense  and  had 
got  out  and  let  her  think  he  was  going  some 
where 

The  lights  of  the  car  were  close  behind  him 
now.  When  they  were  abreast  he  heard  the 
grinding  of  the  brakes  as  it  stopped. 

"I  don't  want  to  be  disagreeable,"  said  the  girl, 
beside  him.  "I  suppose  you  did  want  some  one 
to  talk  to.  I'll  take  you  back  if  you  like." 

"I'd  better  not  bother  you  any  more." 

Suddenly  she  laughed.  In  the  light  from  a 
street  lamp  she  had  caught  her  first  real  glimpse 
of  his  face. 

"Wherever  did  you  get  that  eye?"  she  de 
manded. 


36  23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

"Fighting,"  he  said  shortly.  "We  had  a  rough- 
house  at  the  barracks  last  night." 

"I  should  think  you  were  going  to  have  enough 
trouble  soon  without  getting  beaten  up  like  that," 
she  said  with  a  touch  of  severity.  "Well,  are  you 
going  to  get  in?" 

He  got  in.  She  had  been  rather  reserved  com 
ing  down,  but  now  she  was  more  talkative.  His 
little  remark  about  being  hungry  for  some  one  to 
talk  to  had  struck  home.  Her  brother  had  said 
something  like  that  once.  They  must  get  hungry 
for  girls,  nice  girls. 

So  now  she  chattered  and  she  drew  from  the 
tall  boy  beside  her  something  about  himself.  It 
was  not  particularly  hard  to  do.  Sergeant  Gray 
opened  up  like  a  flower  in  the  sun.  He  explained, 
for  instance,  that  he  was  to  have  a  commission 
when  he  was  twenty-one. 

"Unless,"  he  admitted,  "I'm  in  too  bad  with 
the  Old  Man." 

"The  Old  Man?" 

"The  general,"  explained  Sergeant  Gray,  un 
aware  that  the  young  lady  was  sitting  very 
straight.  "He's  hell — he's  strong  for  discipline, 
and  all  that.  And — well,  every  now  and  then  I 
slip  up  on  something,  and  he  gets  me.  It's  always 
me  he  gets,"  he  finished  plaintively  and  ungram 
matically. 


231/2  HOURS'   LEAVE 37 

"But  you  shouldn't  do  things  that  are  wrong." 

Sergeant  Gray  pondered  this  amazing  state 
ment. 

"Perhaps  you're  right,"  he  acknowledged.  "I 
hadn't  thought  of  that." 

"You  might  try  being  terribly  well  behaved  for 
— well,  for  twenty-four  hours." 

"Do  you  want  me  to?"' 

"It's  entirely  a  matter  of  your  own  good,"  she 
said  rather  coldly. 

"I'll  do  it!"  said  Sergeant  Gray  rashly.  "Not 
a  misstep  for  twenty-four  hours.  How's  that?" 

"It  sounds  well." 

"The  truth  is,"  confided  Sergeant  Gray,  "I've 
got  to  be  good.  He's  watching.  He  told  me  so." 

"And  if  you're  not " 

"Shot  against  a  brick  wall  probably."  He 
grinned  cheerfully.  "Think  of  that  hanging  over 
a  fellow,  and  twenty-three  and  a  half  hours'  leave 
to-morrow." 

"I  hope,"  she  said  in  the  motherly  tone  she  as 
sumed  now  and  then,  "that  you  are  going  to  be 
awfully  careful  to-morrow." 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  cat  crossing  a  wet  gutter? 
Well,  that's  me  to-morrow.  This  is  no  time  to 
take  any  chances." 

At  which  probably  those  particular  gods  that 


38 23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

had  Sergeant  Gray  in  their  keeping  laughed  be 
hind  their  hands. 

The  girl  stopped  the  car  at  the  camp,  and  the 
plaything  of  destiny  descended. 

"Thank  you,  awfully,"  observed  the  said  play 
thing  with  a  considerable  amount  of  warmth  in 
his  voice.  "I — perhaps  I  shall  not  see  you 
again." 

"I  was  just  thinking — what  time  does  your 
leave  commence  to-morrow?" 

"At  ten-thirty"— hopefully. 

"I  might  pick  you  up  then  and  take  you  to  the 
trolley." 

"Honestly,  would  you?"  he  asked  delightedly. 
"You  know,  I — really,  I  can't  tell  you  how  grate 
ful  I  would  be." 

"I  love  to  make  the  taxi  men  wriggle,"  was  her 
rather  unsatisfactory  reply.  "I'll  be  here,  then. 
Good  night." 

Sergeant  Gray  saluted  and  went  away.  To  all 
appearances  he  was  a  rather  overgrown  young 
man  trudging  through  the  mud  of  a  not  too-tidy 
camp  to  a  barracks  that  needed  carbolising.  Actu 
ally  he  was  a  sublimated  being  favoured  of  heaven 
and  floating  in  a  rosy  cloud  of  dreams. 

"Halt!"  said  a  guard,  and  threw  his  rifle  to 
port  arms.  "Who's  there?" 


23V2  HOURS'   LEAVE 39 

"Sergeant  of  the  Headquarters  Troop,"  said 
the  superman. 

"Where's  your  pass?" 

The  superman  presented  it,  and  the  guard  in 
spected  it  closely — the  attitude  of  the  M.  P.  be 
ing  that  all  men  are  Germans  unless  proved  other 
wise. 

"Thoroughly  satisfactory?"  inquired  the  super 
man. 

The  M,  P.  grunted. 

The  sergeant  approached  him  and  lowered  his 
voice  confidentially. 

"Tell  you  something,"  he  volunteered:  "I'm 
not  the  same  chap  who  went  out  on  that  pass." 

"What  d'you  mean  you're  not?" 

"It's  like  this,  old  son.  But  first  of  all  let  me 
aslt  you  something."  He  glanced  about  cau 
tiously.  "Man  to  man,  old  son — do  you  believe 
in  love  at  first  sight?" 

"Last  fellow  who  tried  being  funny  round 
here,"  said  the  guard  grimly,  "had  a  chance  to 
laugh  himself  to  death  in  the  bull  pen." 

"No  heart!"  sighed  the  sergeant,  moving  on, 
still  on  air.  "No  soul!  No  imagination!  Good 
night,  my  sad  and  lonely  friend.  Good  night!" 

He  moved  on,  singing  in  a  very  deep  bass : 

"Oh,  promise  me  that  some  day  you  and  I 

May  take  our  love  te  turn,  te  turn,  te  turn." 


40 231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

The  chief  of  staff,  who  had  also  discovered  that 
his  quarters  needed  fumigation,  raised  from  an 
uneasy  pillow  and  groaned  disgustedly. 

"Stop  that  noise  out  there !"  he  bawled  through 
the  window  beside  him. 

The  superman  recognised  neither  the  voice  nor 
the  new  quarters  of  the  staff. 

"Minion,"  he  said,  halting  and  addressing  the 
window,  "hast  never  loved?" 

Then  he  moved  on,  still  in  a  roseate  cloud  the 
exact  shade  of  a  certain  pink  hat. 

"That  we  may  take  our  love  and  faith  renew-, 
And  find  the  hollows  where  those  violets 
grew-w-w " 

His  voice  died  away,  swallowed  up  in  distance 
and  the  night. 

When  he  went  into  the  lower  squad  room  a 
sort  of  chant  greeted  him  from  the  beds :  "Where, 
oh  where's  the  sergeant  been?" 

And  the  reply  shouted  lustily:  "Out  getting 
measured  for  a  shave." 

He  undressed  quietly,  and  salvaging  the  piece 
of  beefsteak  from  under  his  pillow  got  into  bed 
and  placed  it  carefully  over  his  eye. 


Ill 

BUT  tragedy  had  marked  Sergeant  Gray  for 
its  own.  At  reveille  he  rolled  over,  yawned 
and  without  lifting  himself  reached  up  to  the 
pocket  of  his  blouse  and  retrieved  his  whistle. 

He  blew  it  and  shouted  as  usual :  "R-r-roll  out, 
you  dirty  horsemen!  R-r-roll  out!" 

Then,  arms  under  his  head,  he  lay  and  dreamed. 
Round  the  day  to  come  he  wove  little  fantasies 
of  the  new  uniform,  and  money  in  his  pocket,  and 
twenty-three  and  a  half  hours'  leave,  and — the  girl 
in  the  little  car.  His  pass  he  had  already  secured 
through  the  top  sergeant.  It  had  been,  with  others 
on  the  pass  list,  O.K'd  by  the  captain  and  re- 
O.K'd  by  the  military  police.  At  ten-thirty  that 
morning  Sergeant  Gray  would  be  a  free  man. 

He  made  a  huge  breakfast,  and  careful  inspec 
tion  showed  the  eye  greatly  improved.  And  he 
whistled  blithely  while  laying  out  his  things  for 
the  official  inspection,  comparing  his  belongings 
carefully  with  a  list  in  his  hand.  Nothing  was  to 
go  wrong  that  day,  nothing  mar  the  perfection  of 
it  or  curtail  his  leave. 

But  he  failed  to  count  the  camp  quartermaster ; 
and  that  Destiny,  which  had  taken  him  in  hand 

41 


42 231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

forty-eight  hours  ago,  was  making  of  him  her  toy. 
Now  camp  quartermasters  are  but  human. 
They  have  their  good  days  and  their  bad,  and 
sometimes  it  rather  gets  on  their  nerves,  the  eter 
nal  examining  and  determining,  for  instance,  that 
every  man  of  perhaps  thirty  thousand  possesses 
in  perfect  condition : 

2.  breeches,  O.  D.  wool,  prs. 

2.  coats,  O.  D.  wool. 

i  overcoat,  O.  D.  wool. 

i  slicker. 

i  hat. 

i  cord  (cavalry,  infantry,  artillery).. 

3  undershirts,  cotton. 

3  underbreeches,  cotton,  prs, 

5  socks,  light  wool,  prs. 

5  shirts,  flannel,  O.  D. 

2.  shoes,  field,  prs. 

Sergeant  Gray's  Destiny,  working  by  devious 
ways,  had  given  the  camp  inspector  a  headache,  a 
bad  breakfast,  a  shirt  lost  by  the  laundry  and  a 
wigging  by  somebody  or  other.  Into  the  bargain 
it  was  a  fine  day  for  golf  and  here  he  was  looking 
over  breeches,  O.  D.  wool,  pairs,  two ;  and  so  on. 

Into  the  barracks  then  came  fate  in  the  shape 
of  the  camp  inspector,  military  of  figure  and  mili 
tant  of  disposition,  to  count  the  pins  for  shelter 


23l/2  HOURS'   LEAVE 43 

halves,  for  instance,  and  generally  to  do  anything 
but  swing  a  golf  club,  as  his  heart  desired.  The 
men  lined  up  by  their  equipment  and  the  inspector 
went  down  the  line.  And  he  opened,  by  evil 
chance,  Sergeant  Gray's  condiment  can  and  found 
the  space-to-let  notice  inside. 

He  looked  at  it,  and  then  he  looked  at  the  tall 
sergeant.  Now  to  save  all  he  could  of  his  twenty- 
three  and  a  half  hours'  leave  Sergeant  Gray  had 
put  on  his  new  uniform,  which  was  against  the 
rules.  He  had  obeyed  the  regulations  exactly  as 
to  his  hat  cord,  whistle,  collar  insignia,  buttons 
and  shoes.  Otherwise  from  his  healthy  skin  to  his 
putties  he  wore  not  a  single  issue  article. 

The  second  mess  sergeant  eying  him  before  in 
spection  had  warned  him. 

"You'll  get  into  trouble  with  that  outfit,  Gray," 
he  had  said.  And  Gray  had  replied  that  if  he  did 
it  would  be  his  trouble. 

"Possibly,"  had  been  the  second  mess  sergeant's 
comment.  "But  if  you  put  him  in  a  bad  humour 
and  get  him  started — there'll  be  hell  to  pay." 

And  now  there  was  to  be  hell  to  pay.  And  the 
inspector,  who  might  have  been  expected  to  walk 
in  one  door  and  out  another  but  did  not,  stood  off 
and  surveyed  him  coldly. 

"Issue  uniform?"  he  demanded. 

"N-no,  sir." 


231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 


"Take  it  off!" 

Sergeant  Gray  obeyed.  Once  off,  the  full  ex 
tent  of  his  iniquity,  as  to  his  undershirt,  under- 
breeches  and  socks,  was  revealed. 

"Scrap  the  clothing  this  man  is  wearing,"  or 
dered  the  inspector.  And  to  Sergeant  Gray: 
"Show  me  your  issue  uniforms." 

Now  the  sergeant  was  hard  on  clothing,  and 
particularly  on  breeches.  Also  he  had  given  one 
uniform  to  Watt,  the  cook.  The  single  one  he 
was  able  to  produce  was  badly  worn;  so  badly, 
indeed,  that  the  camp  inspector  with  his  two  hands 
tore  the  breeches  apart,  at  a  vital  spot,  and  flung 
them  on  the  floor.  Something  in  Sergeant  Gray's 
breast  seemed  to  tear  also  and  sink  to  the  floor. 

"Scrap  this  one  also,"  ordered  the  camp  in 
spector. 

"Sir "  ventured  Sergeant  Gray  desperately. 

But  the  camp  inspector  had  discovered  some 
thing,  namely:  That  the  issue  uniforms  of  the 

Headquarters  Troop  of  the th  Division  were 

of  poor  material.  Slowly  and  carefully  he  went 
through  the  lot.  Sharply  and  decisively,  at  the 
end,  he  gave  his  orders. 

"Scrap  every  uniform  in  the  troop,"  he  said, 
"and  send  this  order  to  the  camp  quartermaster." 

In  ten  minutes  one  hundred  and  ninety-five  men 
stood  to  attention  in  their  undergarments,  and  in 


231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 45 

the  center  of  each  squad  room  lay  a  great  heap  of 
discarded  khaki. 

"Leaving  us  rather  stripped,  sir,"  ventured  the 
captain. 

'They've  got  their  slickers,"  curtly  observed 
fate;  "and  the  quartermaster  will  fix  you  up  all 
right." 

He  went  out.    Jove,  what  a  day  for  golf ! 

"Sergeant !"  called  the  captain. 

He  avoided  the  baleful  eyes  of  his  men  and 
looked  out  of  a  window.  He  was  rather  young 
and  terribly  afraid  he  would  laugh. 

The  supply  sergeant,  thus  called,  came  forward 
and  saluted.  He  was  a  queer  figure  in  his  woolens, 
and  the  captain  coughed  to  recover  his  voice. 

"Put — put  on  your  slicker,"  he  said,  "and  carry 
this  order  to  the  camp  quartermaster.  And 
hurry !" 

Now  all  the  balance  of  this  story  rests  on  that 
order  to  hurry,  for  it  came  about  that  the  supply 
sergeant,  running,  put  his  toe  under  the  edge  of 
a  board  and  fell  heavily,  and  a  military  police 
man,  discovering  thus  that  the  sergeant  wore  no 
breeches,  placed  him  immediately  under  arrest. 

"Oh,  very  well,"  said  the  supply  sergeant  po 
litely  ;  and  put  the  order  in  his  slicker  pocket.  If 
they  chose  to  arrest  a  man  for  a  thing  he  couldn't 
help  let  them  do  it.  He  didn't  absolutely  know 


46 23l/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

what  was  in  the  order  and  if  he  could  sit  in  the 
bull  pen  the  troop  could  sit  in  its  underwear.  It 
was  nothing  whatever  to  him. 

He  grinned  malevolently,  however,  when  he 
saw  the  captain  and  the  two  lieutenants  of  the 
troop  leaving  camp  in  a  machine  in  the  direction 
of  the  city. 

"All  right,"  he  said  to  himself.  "We'll  see 
something  later,  that's  all.  The  old  boy  will  be 
crazy  about  this." 

The  old  boy  being  the  general. 

In  the  barracks  black  despair  was  in  Sergeant 
Gray's  heart.  He  made  a  wild  effort  to  retrieve 
his  new  uniform  from  the  heap  which  was  to  be 
carried  out  and  burned,  but  the  troop  were  a  unit 
against  him. 

"Aw,  keep  still!"  they  said  in  effect.  "You 
got  us  into  this,  and  you'll  stick  it  out  with  us." 

"I've  got  leave,  fellows,"  he  appealed  to  the 
other  noncoms.  "I've  got  an  engagement  too." 

"We  know.  To  breakfast  with  the  general," 
sneered  the  stable  sergeant.  "Well,  you'd  better 
send  your  regrets." 

At  ten-fifteen  the  troop,  having  waited  an  hour, 
were  growing  uneasy,  and  Sergeant  Gray  was  sta 
tioned  at  a  window,  watching  three  men  in  slickers 
tending  a  fire  of  mammoth  proportions.  At  ten- 
thirty,  going  to  a  window  in  one  of  the  two  upper 


231/2  HOURS'   LEAVE  47 

squad  rooms,  he  made  out  a  small  car  down  the 
road,  and  a  girl  with  a  pink  hat  in  it.  There  was 
no  supply  sergeant  in  sight. 

At  ten  forty-five  a  scout  patrol  in  slickers  hav 
ing  been  sent  out  reported  the  supply  sergeant  not 
in  the  camp  quartermaster's  office,  as  observed 
through  a  window,  and  the  troop  officers  as  hav 
ing  gone  for  the  day. 

Black  despair,  then,  in  a  hundred  and  ninety- 
five  hearts,  but  in  no  one  of  them  such  agony  as 
in  Sergeant  Gray's.  Clad  in  an  army  slicker  he 
made  a  dozen  abortive  attempts  to  borrow  a  uni 
form  from  tall  men  in  other  companies,  but  in 
spection  was  on,  and  had  commenced  with  the 
Headquarters  Troop.  Not  a  man  dared  to  be 
found  with  less  than  "breeches,  O.  D.  wool,  prs., 
two."  And  blouses  the  same. 

At  eleven  o'clock  with  the  glare  of  frenzy  in  his 
eyes  Sergeant  Gray  put  on  a  slicker,  put  his  pass 
in  his  pocket  and  left  the  barracks.  Outside  the 
door  he  hesitated.  The  sun  was  gleaming  from  a 
hot  sky,  and  there  was  no  wind.  The  absence  of 
wind,  he  felt,  was  in  his  favour.  During  his  hur 
ried  walk  toward  the  little  car  he  was  feeling  in 
his  mind  for  some  excuse  for  the  slicker,  but  he 
found  himself  beside  the  car  before  he  had  found 
anything  to  satisfy  him. 

"You  are  late,"  said  fche  girl  severely. 


48  231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

"Awfully  busy  morning,"  he  explained.  "In 
spection  and — er — all  that.  There's  a  lot  to  get 
ready,"  he  added  mysteriously. 

He  was  aware  of  her  careful  scrutiny,  and  he 
flushed  guiltily.  As  for  the  girl,  she  seemed  satis 
fied  with  what  she  saw.  He  was  a  gentleman, 
clearly.  But  a  slicker ! 

"You'd  better  take  that  raincoat  back,"  she 
observed.  "You  won't  need  it.  It's  going  to  be 
clear  and  hot." 

"I  guess  I'll  take  it,  anyhow." 

"You'll  be  checking  it  somewhere,  and  then  for 
getting  to  get  it  again." 

He  was  frightfully  uneasy.  She  was  the  sort 
of  girl  who  seemed  bent  on  getting  her  own  way. 
So  he  muttered  something  about  having  a  cold, 
and  she  countered  with  a  flat  statement  that  he 
would  get  more  if  he  dressed  too  warmly. 

They  had  reached  what  amounted  to  an  impasse 
when  a  small  boy  flung  a  card  into  the  car. 

"Don't  bother  about  it,"  said  the  girl  as  he 
stooped  to  get  it.  "I  have  one  in  my  pocket  for 
you." 

"Thanks,  awfully,"  said  the  sergeant,  rather 
surprised.  "What  is  it?  A  theatre  ticket?" 

She  did  not  reply  at  once.  He  saw  that  they 
were  passing  the  end  of  the  trolley  line  and  going 
on.  He  had  a  little  thrill  of  mingled  delight  and 


23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 49 

uneasiness.  He  had  had  no  plans  particularly, 
except  to  see  her  again.  His  only  program  had 
been  destroyed  in  the  bonfire. 

Suddenly  she  drew  the  little  car  up  beside  the 
road. 

"Have  you  anything  you  want  particularly  to 
do  to-day  ?"  she  asked. 

"I  was  just  going  to  play  round." 

"Would  you  like  to  do  a  real  service?  A  na 
tional  service?" 

"I  seem  to  be  doing  it  most  of  the  time,"  he 
observed  with  some  bitterness. 

"You  said  yesterday  you  were  going  to  have 
your  picture  taken." 

Good  heavens,  was  this  marvel,  this  creature 
from  another  world,  going  to  ask  for  his  photo 
graph  ? 

"I  would,  but  this  eye " 

"See  here,"  she  said  briskly.  "I  want  you  to 
get  your  picture  taken.  I  want  it  for  a  special 
reason.  And  I  want  you  to  go" — she  felt  in  her 
pocket  and  pulled  out  a  card — "I  want  you  to  go 
to  this  man." 

"I  see,"  he  said,  and  took  the  card.  "Friend 
of  yours?" 

"Certainly  not!" 

"Does  he  take  good  photographs  ?" 

"I  don't  know.    You  might  read  the  card." 


50 231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

He  read  it  carefully.  It  merely  stated  that 
J.  M.  Booth  of  a  certain  number  on  Twenty- 
Second  Street  made  excellent  photographs  very 
cheap,  filled  rush  orders  for  soldiers,  and  gave 
them  a  special  discount.  He  even  turned  it  over, 
but  the  other  side  was  blank. 

"I  don't  get  it,  I  guess,"  he  said  at  last. 
"What's  the  answer?" 

"The  more  I  see  of  army  men  the  less  imagina 
tion  I  find,"  was  her  surprising  reply.  "I  took 
that  card  last  night  to  the — to  an  officer  I  know ; 
and  he  was  just  like  you.  I  hope  you  put  more 
intelligence  into  your  fighting  than  you  do  into 
other  things.  How  many  soldiers  do  you  suppose 
have  gone  to  that  man?" 

"Well,  I'll  be  one,  anyhow." 

He  rose  gallantly  to  the  occasion. 

"A  good  many  hundred,  probably.  As  each  di 
vision  comes  in  and  gets  leave  they  all  run  to  get 
their  pictures  taken,  don't  they?  And  they  want 
them  by  a  certain  time?  Why?  Because  they're 
going  to  sail,  of  course." 

"There's  no  argument  on  my  part." 

"But  suppose  that  man's  name  isn't  Booth? 
Suppose  I  told  you  he'd  once  been  the  court  pho 
tographer  at  Vienna?" 

Sergeant  Gray  whistled. 

"Are  you  telling  me  that?" 


23l/2  HOURS'   LEAVE 51 

"I  am.  My  dressmaker  is  in  the  same  building. 
She  told  me.  He  showed  her  a  lot  of  photographs 
of  the  royal  family." 

Every  boy  has  longed  at  some  period  of  his  life 
to  be  a  detective.  Sergeant  Gray  suddenly  felt 
the  fine  frenzy  of  the  sleuth.  But  there  was  dis 
appointment  too. 

"So  that's  why  you  picked  me  up  last  night?" 

"Not  at  all.  But  it's  why  I  came  for  you  this 
morning." 

"Would  you  mind  explaining  that?" 

"Not  at  all.  I  picked  you  up  because  I  carry 
all  the  boys  I  can  to  the  street  car.  But  after  we 
had  talked  I  felt  you  would  understand.  Some 
of  them  wouldn't." 

Sergeant  Gray  at  once  put  on  the  expression 
of  one  who  understood  perfectly.  But  happening 
to  glance  down,  the  better  to  reflect,  he  saw  that 
the  slicker  had  slid  back  an  inch  or  so,  revealing 
that  amount  of  a  knee  that  was  not  covered  with 
khaki.  He  blushed  furiously,  but  the  girl's  eyes 
were  on  the  road  ahead. 

"I  do  hope  you'll  help  me  out,"  she  was  saying. 
"It  wouldn't  be  of  any  use  for  me  to  go,  you 
know.  But  I'll  go  with  you.  I'll  be  your  sister 
if  you  don't  mind." 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  to  say  that  there 
were  other  relationships  he  would  prefer,  but  he 


231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 


did  not.  She  was  not  that  sort  of  a  girl.  And  he 
was  uneasily  aware,  too,  that  her  interest  in  him 
was  purely  academic.  Not  that  he  put  it  that 
way,  of  course. 

"The  one  thing  you  mustn't  do,"  she  warned 
him,  "is  to  tell  when  you  actually  sail.  I  thought 
you  might  say  that  the  submarine  trouble  has  held 
up  all  sailings,  and  you're  not  going  for  a  month." 

"All  right,"  he  agreed. 

"Just  when  do  you  sail?"  she  asked  suddenly. 

He  was  exceedingly  troubled.  He  had  no 
finesse,  and  here  was  a  point-blank  question.  He 
answered  it  bluntly. 

"Sorry.    I  can't  tell  you." 

"You're  a  good  boy,"  she  said  with  approval. 
"I  know  anyhow,  so  it  doesn't  matter.  I  just  won 
dered  if  you  would  tell." 

"You  know  a  lot  of  things,"  was  his  admiring 
comment. 

Half  an  hour  later  he  was  following  the  girl 
into  a  dingy  elevator.  He  was  suffering  the  pangs 
of  bitter  disappointment,  for  on  his  observing  that 
if  the  fellow  tried  to  find  out  when  the  division 
was  sailing  he  would  throw  him  out  of  the  win 
dow  the  girl  had  turned  on  him  sharply. 

"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  she  said. 
"You'll  tell  him  what  we've  agreed  on,  and  that's 
all." 


231/2  HOURS'   LEAVE  53 

, 

"All?"  he  had  protested.  "And  let  him  get 
away  with  it?" 

"We'll  decide  what  to  do  later,"  she  had  an 
swered  cryptically.  And  somehow  he  had  felt 
that  he  had  fallen  in  her  estimation. 

In  the  elevator  she  said  out  of  a  clear  sky: 
"You'll  have  to  take  that  raincoat  off,  of  course." 

He  swallowed  nervously. 

"Sure  I  will,"  he  replied.  "But— look  here, 
you  don't  mind  if  I  ask  you  to  stay  out  while  I'm 
being  done,  do  you?  I — I'm  funny  about  pic 
tures.  I  don't  like  any  one  round.  Queer  thing," 
he  went  on  desperately,  seeing  her  face.  "Always 
been  like  that.  I " 

"I  didn't  come  here  to  see  you  have  a  photo 
graph  taken,"  she  replied  coldly. 

For  the  next  half  hour  he  did  not  see  her.  He 
was  extremely  busy. 

J.  M.  Booth  proved  to  be  a  slow  worker.  Ser 
geant  Gray,  who  had  been  recently  mixing  with 
all  races  in  the  Army,  was  quick  to  see  that  he 
spoke  fluent  English  with  a  slight  burr. 

"French,  aren't  you?"  he  asked  genially  while 
Mr.  Booth  shifted  the  scenery. 

"Alsatian,"  corroborated  Mr.  Booth.  "But  this 
is  my  country.  I  have  even  taken  an  American 
name.  Now  if  you  will  remove  the  raincoat " 

Sergeant  Gray  moved  a  step  nearer  to  him. 


54 231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

"Can't,"  he  explained  in  a  low  tone.  "  Nothing 
under  it.  You'll  have  to  shoot  as  I  am." 

"No  uniform?" 

"No  uniform.  What  d'you  think  of  a  country 
that  will  send  fellows  to  fight  like  that,  eh?" 

Mr.  Booth's  small  black  eyes  peered  at  him 
suspiciously. 

"Is  it  possible?"  he  demanded.  "This  great 
country,  so  rich,  and — no  uniforms." 

"Uniforms!"  continued  Sergeant  Gray,  begin 
ning  to  enjoy  himself  hugely.  "Why,  say,  we 
haven't  anything !  No  guns  worth  the  name,  not 
enough  shoes.  Why,  a  fellow  in  my  company's 
wearing  two  rights  at  this  minute.  And  as  for 
uniforms — why,  I'll  tell  you  this — my  whole  com 
pany's  going  round  to-day  like  this,  slickers  and 
nothing  else." 

"Amazing!"  commented  Mr.  Booth  unctuous 
ly.  "We  hear  of  so  much  money  being  spent,  and 
yet  nothing  to  show  for  it." 

"Graft !"  explained  the  sergeant  in  a  very  deep 
bass.  "Graft,  that's  what  it  is !" 

Mr.  Booth  seemed  temporarily  to  forget  that 
he  was  there  to  take  a  picture. 

"But  you— we  will  come  out  all  right,"  he  ob 
served,  watching  the  sergeant  closely.  "We  have 
so  much.  The  Browning  gun,  now — do  you  know 
about  that  ?  It  is  wonderful,  not  so  ?" 


23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 


"Wonderful?"  queried  the  sergeant,  feeling- 
happier  than  he  had  for  some  time.  "Well,  I'm 
a  machine  gunner ;  and  if  we're  to  get  anywhere 
we've  got  to  do  better  than  the  Browning."  He 
had  a  second's  uneasiness  then,  until  he  remem 
bered  that  he  wore  no  insignia.  "It  heats.  It 

jams.  It "  Here  ended  his  knowledge  of 

machine  guns.  "It's  rotten,  that's  all." 

Mr.  Booth  was  moistening  his  lips. 

"It's  sad  news,"  he  observed.  "I — but  this 
Liberty  motor — I  understand  it's  a  success." 

"You'd  better  not  ask  me  about  that,"  said  the 
sergeant  gravely.  "Ever  since  my  brother  went 
down " 

"Went  down?    Fell?" 

"Aviation.  Engine  too  heavy  for  the  wings. 
Got  up  a  hundred  feet — first  plane,  you  know, 
testing  it  out.  And " 

He  drew  a  long  breath. 

"I  wonder,"  said  Mr.  Booth,  "if  you  would 
care  for  a  little  drink?  I  keep  some  here  for  the 
boys.  The  city's  a  dry  place  for  soldiers.  It'll 
cheer  you  up." 

"I'm  off  liquor."  It  was  the  first  truth  he  had 
spoken  for  some  time,  and  it  sounded  strange  to 
his  ears.  "Rotten  food  and  all  that.  Can't  drink. 
That's  straight." 

It  had  not  been  lost  on  him  that  Mr.  Booth  was 


56 231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

endeavoring  to  conceal  a  vast  cheerfulness;  also 
that  his  refusal  to  drink  was  unexpected. 

"Better  have  the  picture,  old  top/'  he  observed. 
"Better  get  this  eye  on  the  off  side,  hadn't  you?" 

For  some  five  minutes  Mr.  Booth  alternately 
disappeared  under  a  black  cloth  and  reappeared 
again.  The  sergeant  felt  that  under  a  pretence  of 
focusing  he  was  being  subjected  to  a  close  scru 
tiny,  and  bore  himself  carefully  and  well. 

When  at  last  it  was  over  Mr.  Booth  put  a  ques 
tion.  "Want  these  in  a  hurry,  I  suppose?" 

"Hurry?    Why?" 

"Most  of  the  boys  are  just  about  to  sail.  They 
come  in  here  and  give  me  two  days,  three  days. 
It  is  not  enough." 

"Well,  I  can  give  you  a  month  if  you  want  it." 

"You're  not  going  soon,  then?" 

"I  should  say  not !  Do  you  think  Uncle  Sam's 
going  to  trust  any  transports  out  with  these  Ger 
man  submarines  about?  I  guess  not!" 

There  was  no  question  as  to  Mr.  Booth's  ex 
citement  now.  His  round  face  fairly  twitched. 

"But  you  cannot  know  that,"  he  said.  "That 
is  camp  talk,  eh?" 

"Not  on  your  life !"  said  the  sergeant,  and  went 
closer  to  him.  "I  got  a  cousin  in  headquarters; 
and  he  saw  the  order  from  Washington." 


23V2  HOURS'  LEAVE 57 

"What  was  the  order?  You  remember  it, 
'eh?" 

"All  orders  for  troops  to  sail  during  month  of 
June  canceled,"  lied  the  sergeant  glibly.  "Not 
likely  to  forget  that,  old  top,  with  a  month  to 
play  round  in  your  dear  old  town." 

He  was  filled  with  admiration  of  himself.  And 
under  that  admiration  was  swelling  and  growing 
a  great  loathing  for  the  creature  before  him.  He 
would  fill  him  with  lies  as  full  as  he  would  hold. 
And  then  he  would  get  him.  But  he  would  con 
sult  the  girl  about  that.  She  had  forbidden  vio 
lence,  but  when  she  knew  the  facts 

He  gave  his  name  and  put  down  a  deposit. 

"You  are  sure  you  are  in  no  hurry?"  asked  Mr. 
Booth,  scrutinising  him  carefully. 

"I  wish  I  was  as  sure  of  a  uniform." 

The  girl  was  waiting,  and  together  they  went 
down  to  the  street.  Though  her  eyes  were  eager 
she  asked  no  questions.  She  preceded  Sergeant 
Gray  to  the  little  car  and  got  in.  And  suddenly 
a  chill  struck  to  the  sergeant's  heart. 

On  the  pavement,  eying  him  with  cold  and 
glittering  eyes,  were  the  stable  sergeant,  the  troop 
mess  sergeant,  the  second  mess  sergeant  and  two 
corporals.  Like  himself  they  wore  slickers  to 
cover  certain  deficiencies,  and  unlike  him  they 


231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 


wore  an  expression  of  cold  and  calculating 
deviltry. 

"Hello!"  they  said,  and  surrounded  him. 
"Having  a  good  time?" 

He  cast  an  agonised  glance  at  the  car.  Th1 
girl  was  looking  ahead. 

"Pretty  fair,"  he  replied;  and  calculated  tire 
distance  to  the  car. 

"We've  been  keeping  an  eye  open  for  you," 
said  the  stable  sergeant,  stepping  between  him  and 
the  car.  "We  want  to  have  a  word  with  you." 

"I'll  meet  you  somewhere."  There  was  plead 
ing  in  his  voice.  "Anywhere  you  say,  in  an  hour." 
Their  faces  were  cold  and  unrelenting.  "In  a  half 
hour,  then." 

"What  we've  got  to  do  won't  wait,"  observed 
the  stable  sergeant.  "How  do  you  think  we  like 
going  about  like  this  anyhow?  Our  only  chance 
to  have  a  time,  and  going  round  like  a  lot  of  luna 
tics.  We  warned  you,  didn't  we?  We " 

Sergeant  Gray  knew  what  was  coming.  He  had 
known  it  with  deadly  certainty  from  the  moment 
he  saw  that  menacing  group,  cold  of  eye  but  hot 
of  face.  And  strong  as  he  was  he  was  no  match 
for  five  of  them,  hardened  with  months  of  train 
ing  and  infuriated  with  outrage. 

"I'm  with  a  young  lady,  fellows,"  he  pleaded. 


23V2  HOURS'  LEAVE 59 

"Don't  make  a  row  here.  If  you'll  only 
wait " 

"Oh,  there  won't  be  any  row,"  observed  the 
stable  sergeant.  "You  take  off  that  slicker,  that's 
all." 

"Not  here !  For  heaven's  sake,  fellows,  not  on 
the  street!  I  tell  you  I've  got  a  girl  with  me. 
A  nice  girl.  A " 

The  stable  sergeant  hesitated  and  glanced  to 
ward  the  car. 

"All  right,"  he  said.  "But  we're  going  to  take 
that  slicker  back  to  camp.  We  promised  the 
troop.  You  can  step  inside  that  door.  I  guess 
that's  satisfactory?" 

He  glanced  at  the  group,  which  nodded  grimly. 

For  an  instant  Sergeant  Gray  was  tempted  to 
run  and  chance  it,  but  the  girl  had  turned  her  head 
and  was  watching  them  curiously.  Hope  died  in 
him.  He  could  neither  run  nor  fight.  And  the 
group  closed  in  on  him. 

"  'Bout  face — march !"  said  the  stable  ser 
geant. 

And  he  marched. 

Inside  the  hallway,  behind  the  elevator,  how 
ever,  he  turned  loose  with  his  fists.  He  fought 
desperately,  using  his  long  arms  with  accuracy 
and  precision.  One  of  the  corporals  went  down 
first.  The  second  mess  sergeant  followed  him.  But 


60 23l/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

the  result  was  inevitable.  Inside  of  three  minutes 
the  girl  saw  the  little  group  returning  to  the  street. 
One  corporal  held  a  handkerchief  to  his  lip,  and 
the  first  mess  sergeant  was  holding  together  a 
slicker  which  had  no  longer  any  clasps.  The  sta 
ble  sergeant,  however,  was  calm  and  happy.  He 
carried  a  slicker  over  his  arm. 

"Sergeant  Gray's  compliments,  miss,"  he  said, 
saluting.  Then,  as  an  afterthought  of  particular 
fiendishness:  "And  he  will  be  engaged  for  some 
time.  If  you  would  take  charge  of  this  slicker 
he'll  be  much  obliged  to  you." 

He  saluted  again,  and  the  group  swaggered 
down  the  street. 

The  girl  sat  in  the  car  and  looked  after  them. 
Then  she  glanced  at  the  slicker,  and  a  little  frown 
gathered  between  her  eyes.  Had  he,  against  her 
orders,  gone  back  to  deal  with  Mr.  Booth  alone? 
She  was  mystified  and  not  a  little  indignant,  and 
when  she  started  the  car  again  it  was  with  a  jerk 
of  irritation. 

Inside  the  hallway,  behind  the  elevator,  cursed 
and  raged  Sergeant  Gray.  At  every  step  in  the 
doorway  he  shook  with  apprehension.  Behind 
him  stretched  a  wooden  staircase,  toward  which 
he  cast  agonised  eyes.  The  elevator  came  down, 
discharged  its  passengers,  filled  again  and  went 
up.  Outside  in  the  brilliant  street  thousands  of 


23i/2  HOURS*  LEAVE 61 

feet  passed,  carrying  people  fully  clothed  and  en 
titled  to  a  place  in  the  sun.  Momentarily  he  ex 
pected  the  climax  of  his  wretchedness — that  the 
girl  would  tire  of  waiting  and  come  into  the  build 
ing.  He  plucked  up  courage  after  a  time  to  peer 
round  the  corner  of  the  elevator.  The  car  was 
gone. 

"What'll  she  think  of  me?"  he  groaned. 

Wild  schemes  of  revenge  surged  in  him.  Mur 
der  with  torture  was  among  them.  And  always 
while  he  cursed  and  planned  his  eyes  were  on  the 
staircase  behind  him. 

Came  a  time,  however,  when  the  elevator  de 
scended  empty,  and  the  elderly  man  on  the  stool 
inside  prepared  to  read  a  newspaper.  He  was 
startled  by  a  husky  whisper  just  beneath  his  left 
ear. 

"Say,  come  here  a  minute,  will  you?" 

He  turned.  Through  the  grille  beside  him  a 
desperate  face  with  one  black  eye  was  staring  at 
him. 

"Come  here  yourself,"  he  returned  uneasily. 

With  a  wild  rush  the  owner  of  the  face  cata 
pulted  into  the  elevator  and  closed  the  grating. 
Then  he  turned  and  faced  him. 

"Run  me  up,  quick!" 

"Good  God!"  said  the  elevator  man. 

There  were  steps  in  the  entrance.     With  a 


62 


frenzied  gesture  Sergeant  Gray,  of  the  Head 
quarters  Troop  of  the  th  Division,  gave  a 

pull  at  the  lever.  The  car  descended  with  a  jerk. 

"Leggo  that  thing,"  said  the  elevator  man,  now 
wildly  terrified.  "Want  to  shoot  down  into  the 
subway?" 

Thoroughly  frenzied,  Sergeant  Gray  pulled  the 
lever  the  other  way.  The  car  stopped,  trembled, 
ascended.  For  a  moment  two  stenographers  wait 
ing  on  the  ground  floor  had  a  vision  of  a  strange 
figure  in  undershirt,  cotton,  one,  and  nether  gar 
ments  to  match,  surmounted  by  a  distorted  face, 
passing  on  its  way  to  the  upper  floors. 

Sergeant  Gray  surrendered  the  lever,  and  ran 
a  trembling  hand  across  his  forehead. 

"You've  got  to  hide  me  somewhere,"  he  shout 
ed.  "Look  at  me!" 

"I  see  you,"  said  the  elevator  man.  "Y'ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  yourself." 

"You've  got  to  hide  me,"  insisted  Sergeant 
Gray;  "and  then  you've  got  to  go  out  and  buy 
me  some  clothes." 

They  had  reached  the  top  floor,  and  the  car  had 
stopped. 

"I'll  tell  you  later.  You  can  get  me  a  pair  of 
pants  somewhere,  can't  you  ?" 

There  was  pleading  in  his  voice.  Almost  tears. 
But  the  tears  were  of  rage. 


23l/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 63 

"I'll  lose  my  job  if  I  leave  this  car,"  observed 
the  elevator  man.  He  had  recovered  from  his 
fright,  and  besides  he  had  recognised  the  boy's 
service  hat. 

"Soldier,  aren't  you?" 

"Yes.  Look  here,  old  man,  I'm  in  a  devil  of  a 
mess.  Lot  of  our  fellows,  met  them  outside — 
it's  a  joke.  I'll  joke  them!"  he  added  vindic 
tively. 

"Some  fellows  got  a  queer  idea  of  humour,"  ob 
served  the  elevator  man.  "I  might  send  out  for 
you.  Got  any  money  ?" 

The  full  depth  of  his  helplessness  struck  Ser 
geant  Gray  then  and  turned  him  cold.  His  money, 
thirty-nine  dollars  and  sixteen  cents,  was  in  the 
slicker. 

"They  took  my  money  too," 

The  elevator  man's  face  grew  not  less  inter 
ested  but  more  suspicious. 

"Why  don't  you  get  a  good  story  while  you're 
at  it?"  he  demanded.  "Looks  like  you're  running 
away  from  something." 

"Great  heavens,  I  should  think  I  am !" 

"You  fellows,"  observed  the  elevator  man, 
"think  you  can  come  to  this  town  and  raise  hell 
and  then  pull  some  soldier  stuff  and  get  out  of  it. 
Well,  you  haven't  any  effect  on  me." 


64  23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

The  buzzer  in  the  cage  had  been  ringing  in 
sistently. 

"I'll  have  to  go  down.    Crawl  out,  son." 

"Crawl  out!    Whereto?" 

"Don't  know.  Can't  let  you  in  an  office.  You 
may  find  some  place."  He  threw  open  the  door. 
"Out  with  you!"  he  commanded.  "I'll  look  you 
up  later." 

"Run  me  to  the  cellar,"  gasped  Sergeant  Gray. 

"Tailor's  shop  there.    Full  of  girls." 

With  a  hoarse  imprecation  Sergeant  Gray  left 
the  elevator  and  scuttled  down  the  hallway.  To 
his  maddened  ears  the  place  was  full  of  sounds, 
of  voices  inside  doorways  and  about  to  emerge,  of 
footsteps,  of  hideous  laughter.  He  had  wild  vi 
sions  of  finding  a  window  and  a  roof,  even  of 
jumping  ofif  it.  Then — he  saw  on  a  door  the  name 
of  J.  M.  Booth,  Photographer;  and  hope  leaped 
in  his  heart. 

He  opened  the  door  cautiously  and  peered  with 
in.  All  was  silent.  On  the  table  in  the  reception 
room  lay  still  open  the  album  with  which  the  girl 
had  amused  herself  while  she  waited,  and  over  a 
couch — oh,  joy  supreme ! — there  was  flung  an  In 
dian  blanket.  He  caught  it  up  and  wrapped  it 
about  him ;  and  the  madness  left  him.  Such  as  it 
was,  he  was  clothed. 

Still  cautiously,  however,  he  advanced  to  the 


231/2  HOURS'   LEAVE  65 

studio.  All  was  quiet  there,  but  beyond  he  could 
hear  water  running,  and  the  careful  handling  of 
photographers'  plates.  Mr.  Booth,  erstwhile  of 
Vienna,  was  within  and  busy.  It  irked  the  ser 
geant  profoundly  that  to  such  unworthy  refuge 
he  was  driven  for  shelter,  but  he  squared  his 
shoulders  and  advanced.  Then  suddenly  he  heard 
footsteps  in  the  outer  room,  footsteps  that  ad 
vanced  deliberately  and  relentlessly. 

Wild  fear  shook  him  again.  He  looked  round 
him  frantically,  and  then  sought  refuge.  In  a 
corner  behind  a  piece  of  scenery  which  was  in 
tended  to  show  the  sitter  in  an  Italian  garden, 

Sergeant  Gray  of  the  th  Division  sought 

shameful  sanctuary. 

Somewhat  later  in  the  day  the  general,  having 
a  broiled  squab  and  mushrooms  under  glass  in  a 
window  at  the  best  restaurant  in  the  city,  put  on 
his  glasses  and  looked  out  over  the  surging  tide  in 
the  brilliant  sunlight  of  the  street.  Just  opposite 
him,  moving  sedately,  was  a  group  of  soldiers. 

"I  wish  you'd  tell  me,"  said  the  general  testily 
to  the  aide-de-camp  whose  particular  joy  it  was  to 
lunch  with  him,  "what  the  deuce  those  fellows  are 
doing  in  slickers  on  a  day  like  this." 

"No  accounting  for  the  vagaries  of  enlisted  men, 
sir,"  returned  the  aide,  ordering  a  demit asse. 


IV 

AT  that  exact  moment  the  elevator  man,  hav 
ing  a  moment's  leisure  after  the  lunch  rush, 
made  his  way  back  along  the  corridor  where  he 
had  left  a  wild-eyed  refugee.  All  was  quiet.  In 
the  office  of  the  National  Asphalt  Company  the 
clicking  of  typewriters  showed  that  no  fleeing 
soldier,  seeking  sanctuary  and  a  pair  of  trousers, 
had  upset  the  day's  pavements.  Dolls  and  Wigs 
was  calm.  Coat  Fronts  remained  inadequate  and 
still. 

He  wandered  back,  his  face  twisted  in  a  dry 
grin.  Then  suddenly  from  Booth,  Photographer, 
he  heard  a  wild  yell.  This  was  followed  by  the 
crash  of  a  heavy  body,  a  number  of  smothered 
oaths  and  a  steady  softish  thud  that  sounded  ex 
tremely  like  the  impact  of  fists  on  flesh. 

The  elevator  man  opened  the  door  of  Booth, 
Photographer's,  anteroom  and  stuck  his  head  in. 
The  studio  beyond  showed  something  on  the  floor 
that  stirred  in  the  wrapping  of  an  Indian  blanket, 
while  stepping  across  it  and  on  it  a  mad  thing  in 
undergarments  and  a  service  hat  was  delivering 
blows  at  something  unseen. 

The  elevator  man  carefully  reached  a  hand  in- 

66 


231  o  HOURS'   LEAVE  67 

side  the  door  and  took  out  the  key.  Then  as 
stealthily  he  closed  the  door,  locked  it  from  the 
outside,  and  moved  back  swiftly  to  his  cage, 
where  the  buzzer  showed  that  the  carpet  cleaning- 
company  which  occupied  the  fourth  floor  was  in  a 
hurry  and  didn't  care  who  knew  it. 

At  the  end  of  twenty  minutes  two  roundsmen 
went  up  in  the  cage.  Going  up  they  learned  of 
the  preliminaries. 

"Crazy,  I  guess,"  finished  the  elevator  man. 
"He  looked  crazy,  now  I  think  about  it.  Prob 
ably  killed  the  lot  by  this  time.  Where  do  you 
fellows  hide,  anyhow?" 

Back  in  Booth,  Photographer,  there  was  a  com 
plete  and  awful  silence.  Revolvers  ready,  the 
door  was  opened  and  the  roundsmen  sprang  hi. 
It  looked  like  the  worst.  The  Indian  blanket  nor 
moved  nor  quivered.  A  chair,  overturned,  lay  on 
top  of  it,  and  against  that  there  leaned  tipsily  a 
photographer's  screen,  on  which  was  painted,  in 
grays  and  whites,  an  Italian  garden. 

"I'm  glad  to  see  you,"  called  a  cheery  voice. 
"I'm  glad  to  see  you!" 

Standing  in  the  doorway  of  the  dressing  room 
was  a  tall  young  man.  He  held  a  brush  hi  his 
hand  and  was  still  slicking  down  his  hair. 

"How  are  you,  anyhow?"  demanded  the  tall 
young  man,  and  proceeded  to  shake  down  the  leg 


68 


of  a  pair  of  black  trousers.  "A  trifle  short,  aren't 
they?"  he  observed.  "But  they're  a  darn  sight 
better  than  nothing!" 

"Get  him,  Joe,"  said  one  of  the  officers  casu 
ally,  and  walked  toward  the  inner  room. 

"Oh,  Fll  go  along  all  right,"  said  Sergeant 
Gray  blithely.  "It's  worth  the  price.  I'm  only 
sorry  you  didn't  see  it.  I " 

"Joe!"  called  the  other  officer  from  the  inner 
room.  "Come  here,  will  you?" 

"Mind  if  I  go  along?"  asked  Sergeant  Gray. 
"I'd  like  to  look  at  'em  again.  I  want  to  remem 
ber  how  they  look  all  the  rest  of  my  life." 

Joe  nodded,  and  Sergeant  Gray  led  the  way  to 
the  studio.  In  a  corner,  roped  tightly  to  a  chair, 
sat  Booth,  Photographer.  He  was  bleeding  pro 
fusely  from  a  cut  on  the  lip  and  another  over  the 
eye,  his  head  was  bobbing  weakly  on  his  shoulders, 
and  he  wore,  to  be  exact,  one  union  suit  minus  two 
buttons  on  the  chest  and  held  together  by  a  safety 
pin. 

Joe  stumbling  over  the  Indian  blanket  heard 
it  groan  beneath  him,  and  uncovered  a  stout  gen 
tleman  in  a  cutaway  coat  and  with  his  collar  torn 
off. 

"Pretty  good,  eh?"  demanded  Sergeant  Gray. 
"Sorry  about  the  collar,  though.  Booth's  is  too 
small  for  me." 


231/2  HOURS'   LEAVE 69 

"Want  an  ambulance?"  inquired  the  elevator 
man  with  unholy  joy  in  his  eyes. 

"Yes.  Better  have  one."  And  to  the  wreck 
age:  "You  gentlemen  will  be  all  right,"  said  Joe. 
"How'd  this  happen,  anyhow?" 

"I'll  tell  you,"  volunteered  the  sergeant. 
"They're  spies,  that's  what  they  are.  German 
spies.  D'you  get  it?  And  I " 

"Aw,  shut  up !"  said  the  first  roundsman,  wear 
ily.  "Take  him  along,  Joe.  Now,  how  d'you  feel, 
Mr.  Booth?" 

"But  I  tell  you " 

"You  don't  tell  me  anything.  You  go.  That's 
all." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  said  Sergeant  Gray  cheer 
fully.  "You'll  be  sorry.  That's  all.  Come  on, 
Joe."  He  raised  his  voice  in  song. 

"Where  do  we  go  from  here,  Joe,  where  do  we 
go  from  here?"  he  sang  in  a  very  deep  bass. 

At  the  centre  table  he  stopped,  however,  with 
Joe's  revolver  very  close  to  him,  and  consulted 
Mr.  Booth's  watch  which,  with  all  of  his  money 
but  car  fare  back  to  camp,  lay  in  a  heap  there. 

"You  might  hurry  a  bit,  Joe,"  he  suggested; 
"I've  only  got  twenty-three  and  a  half  hours' 
leave,  and  time's  flying.  You'll  observe,"  he  add 
ed,  "that  old  Booth's  money  and  watch  are  here." 
He  glanced  significantly  toward  the  elevator  man. 


70  231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

"Eight  dollars  and  ninety  cents,  Joe,"  he  said. 
"The  old  boy'll  need  it  for  a  doctor." 

The  general  breakfasted  rather  late  the  next 
morning — at  seven  o'clock.  His  ordinary  hour 
was  six-thirty.  He  had  eaten  three  fried  eggs, 
some  fried  potatoes,  a  bran  muffin,  drunk  a  cup 
of  coffee,  and  was  trying  to  remember  if  he  had 
made  any  indiscreet  remarks  at  a  dinner  party  the 
night  before  about  Pershing  or  the  General  Staff, 
when  an  aide  came  in  with  a  report.  The  general 
read  it  slowly,  then  looked  up. 

"You  mean  to  say,"  he  inquired,  "that  those 
fellows  haven't  had  any  clothes  since  yesterday 
morning?" 

"No  uniforms,  sir." 

"The  entire  troop?" 

"All  except  those  who  were  on  duty  here  yes 
terday,  sir.  I  believe" — the  aide  hesitated — "I 
believe  some  of  them  went  to  town  anyhow,  sir." 

"The  devil  you  say!"  roared  the  general. 

"I  rather  fancy  that  the  men  we  saw  in  slickers, 
sir " 

Suddenly  the  general  laughed.  The  aide 
laughed  also.  Aides  always  laugh  when  the  gen 
eral  does.  It  is  etiquette.  When  the  general  had 
stopped  laughing  he  became  very  military  again, 
and  swore. 


23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 71 

"We'll  look  into  it,  Tommy,"  he  said.  "It's  a 
damned  shame.  Somebody's  going  to  pay  for  it 
through  the  nose." 

This  is  a  little-used  phrase,  but  the  general  had 
read  it  somewhere  and  adopted  it.  It  means 
copiously. 

He  was  not  aware,  naturally,  that  Sergeant 
Gray  was  already  paying  for  it,  copiously. 

It  was  at  that  precise  moment  that  a  little  car 
drew  up  outside  his  quarters.  The  general  smiled 
and  rolled  himself  a  cigarette. 

"Bring  me  another  cup  of  coffee,"  he  ordered, 
"and  get  another  chair,  Tommy." 

The  girl  came  in.  She  kissed  the  general  on 
his  right  cheek,  and  then  on  his  chin,  and  then 
stood  back  and  looked  at  him. 

"I'm  in  trouble,  Uncle  Jimmy,"  she  said.  "If 
a  man  from  the  Headquarters  Troop  overstays 
his  leave  what  happens  to  him?" 

"Court-martialed;  maybe  shot,"  replied  the 
general  with  a  glance  at  Tommy,  who  did  not  see 
it  as  he  was  looking  at  the  girl. 

"But  if  it  is  my  fault " 

"Then  you'll  be  shot,"  said  the  general  cheerily. 
"Now  see  here,  Peggy,  if  you  don't  let  my  young 
men  alone What's  that  you're  carrying?" 

"It's  a  slicker!"  said  Peggy. 


72 23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

The  general  looked  at  Tommy,  and  Tommy 
looked  back. 

Peggy  told  her  story,  and  showed,  toward  the 
end,  an  alarming  disposition  to  cry. 

"He  knew  something,"  she  said.  "That — that 
man  Booth  was  a  spy,  Uncle  Jimmy.  I  could 
hear  him  asking  all  sort  of  questions,  and  when 
the  sergeant  came  out  his  face  was " 

"Sergeant,  eh?"  interrupted  Uncle  Jimmy. 
"Any  sergeants  from  the  Headquarters  Troop  on 
leave,  Tommy?" 

"I'll  find  out,  sir." 

Tommy  went  away. 

"I  had  got  into  the  car,  and  he  was  coming, 
when  three  or  four  other  soldiers  came  along. 
They  all  went  back  into  the  building,  and  I — I 
thought  they  were  going  to  get  Mr.  Booth.  But 
pretty  soon  they  came  out  without  him,  and  one 
of  them  gave  me  this  slicker;  and — and  they  all 
went  away." 

"Good  Lord!"  said  the  general  suddenly.  "The 
young  devils !  The — the  young  scamps !  So  that 
was  it.  Now  look  here,  Peggy,"  he  said,  bending 
forward  with  a  twinkle.  "I — well,  I  understand, 
I  can't  explain,  but  it  was  just  mischief.  Your 
young  man's  all  right,  though  where  he's  hid- 
ing " 

He  broke  off  and  chuckled. 


23i/2  HOURS'  LEAVE  73 

"He  is  not  at  all  the  hiding  sort." 

"Under  certain  circumstances,  Peggy,"  ob 
served  the  general,  "any  man  will  hide — and 
should." 

Some  time  later,  at  approximately  the  hour 
when  Sergeant  Gray's  twenty-three  and  a  half 
hours'  leave  was  up,  the  little  car  started  for  the 
city.  It  contained  one  anxious  young  lady,  one 
general  who  rolled  constant  cigarettes  and 
chuckled,  and  one  aide  on  the  folding  seat  in  the 
back,  rather  resentful  because  there  was  no  ade 
quate  place  for  his  legs. 

"I'm  going  along,  Tommy,"  the  general  had 
said,  "It  promises  to  be  rather  good,  and  I  need 
cheering.  Besides,  under  the  circumstances,  a 
member  of  Miss  Peggy's  family " 

At  the  building  on  Twenty-second  Street  the 
general  got  out,  leaving  Peggy  discreetly  in  the 
car.  He  was  a  large  and  very  military  figure,  and 
he  summoned  the  elevator  man  with  a  single  com 
manding  gesture. 

"I  want  to  know,"  said  the  general  fixing  him 
with  a  cold  eye,  "whether  you  happened,  yester 
day  afternoon,  to  have  seen  about  here  an  enlisted 
man  without  a  uniform?" 

"I  did,"  said  the  elevator  man  unctuously. 

"You  did— what?" 

"I  did  see  him." 


74 23l/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

"Say,  'sir',"  prompted  the  aide. 

"I  did — sir."    It  plainly  hurt  to  say  it. 

"When  and  where  did  you  see  him  last  ?" 

"At  one-thirty,  getting  into  a  police  wagon — 
sir." 

"Exactly,"  said  the  general.  "You  of  course 
provided  him  with  clothing  before  the — er — 
arrest." 

"I  did  not,"  said  the  elevator  man,  who  had 
by  now  decided  that  no  man  could  bully  him, 
even  if  he  did  wear  two  stars.  "He  stole  a  suit. 
And  before  he  did  that  he  like  to  killed  two  men. 
Mr.  Booth,  he's  in  the  hospital  now;  and  as  for 
the  other  gentleman,  he  was  took  away  in  a  taxi 
last  night.  If  he  was  one  of  your  men,  all  I  got 
to  say  is " 

"Of  no  importance  whatever,"  finished  the  gen 
eral  coldly.  "Find  out  where  he  was  taken,"  he 
added  to  Tommy,  and  stalked  out.  The  elevator 
man  followed  him  with  resentful  eyes. 

"You  tell  Pershing,  or  the  Secretary  of  War, 
or  whatever  that  is,"  he  said  venomously,  "that 
his  pet  wild  cat  is  in  the  central  police  station.  I 
expect  he's  in  a  padded  cell.  Good-by." 

An  hour  later  the  little  car  stopped  in  front  of 
the  best  restaurant  in  town  and  the  general  as 
sisted  his  niece  to  get  out.  From  the  folding  seat 


231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 75 

behind,  two  pairs  of  long  legs,  one  in  khaki  and 
one  in  black  rather  too  short,  disentangled  them 
selves  and  followed.  The  best  restaurants  in 
town  in  the  morning  present  a  dishabille  appear 
ance  of  sweepers,  waiters  without  coats  and  gen 
eral  dreariness ;  but  the  general  took  the  place  by 
storm. 

"Table  for  four,"  he  said.  Now  that  he  was 
doing  the  thing  he  was  minded  to  do  it  magnifi 
cently.  "Sit  down,  sergeant.  Tommy,  run  and 
telephone,  as  I  told  you,  to  the  Department  of 
Justice.  Got  to  nail  those  fellows  quick." 

As  one  newly  awakened  from  sleep  Sergeant 
sat  down  beside  Peggy.  He  presented,  up  to  the 
neck,  the  appearance  of  a  Mr.  Booth  suddenly 
elongated  as  to  legs  and  arms.  From  the  neck 
up  he  was  a  young  man  who  had  found  one  hun 
dred  and  seventy-five  dollars  and  the  only  girl  in 
the  world. 

The  general  ordered  breakfast  for  four.  Then 
he  glanced  up  from  the  menu. 

"Suit  you  all  right,  Gray?" 

"Splendidly,   sir — unless "     He  hesitated. 

"Go  ahead,"  said  the  general.  "You've  earned 
the  right  to  choose  what  you  like." 

"I  was  going  to  suggest,  sir,  that  I  ordinarily 
have  a  bran  muffin " 


76  231/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

The  general  put  down  the  menu  and  stared  at 
him.  Then  he  chuckled. 

' 'Might  have  known  it  would  be  you!"  he  ob 
served.  "But  c'est  la  guerre,  Gray..  C'e,st  la 
guerre!  We'll  have  them." 


EA.RLY  that  afternoon  the  stable  sergeant  of 
the  Headquarters  Troop  coming  out  of  divi 
sional  headquarters  saw  the  general  approaching 
in  a  car  much  too  small  for  him.  Beside  him  sat 
an  aide,  who  drove  wisely  but  not  too  well.  On 
the  rumble  seat  were  a  girl,  and  a  youth  in  civilian 
clothes  and  a  service  hat.  They  were  in  deep, 
absorbing  conversation. 

The  stable  sergeant  came  stiffly  to  the  salute, 
and  remained  at  it,  the  general  giving  no  evidence 
of  seeing  him  and  returning  it.  Then — the  stable 
sergeant  went  pale  under  his  tan,  for  the  civilian 
emerging  from  the  rear  of  the  machine,  and 
strangely  but  sufficiently  clad,  was  one  Sergeant 
Gray  of  the  Headquarters  Troop. 

As  if  this  had  not  been  enough  he  watched  the 
same  Sergeant  Gray  assist  to  alight  the  young 
lady  of  yesterday,  and  it  gave  no  peace  to  the 
stable  sergeant's  turbulent  soul  to  behold  that 
young  lady  giving  the  general  a  patronising  pat 
and  then  a  kiss. 

"Great  Scott !"  said  the  stable  sergeant  feebly. 

But  there  was  more  to  come,  for  Sergeant  Gray 
had  spied  his  enemy  and  was  minded  to  have 

77 


78 MORE   TISH 

official  confirmation  of  a  certain  fact.  Before  the 
stable  sergeant's  incredulous  eyes  he  beheld  Gray, 
of  the  undergarments,  gauze,  et  cetera,  advance 
to  the  general  and  salute,  and  then  remark  in  a 
very  distinct  tone : 

"It  was  very  kind  of  you,  sir,  to  ask  me  to 
breakfast." 

The  general  looked  about  under  his  gray  eye 
brows  and  perceived  a  situation. 

"Not  at  all,"  he  replied  in  an  equally  distinct 
voice.  "Glad  you  liked  my  bran  muffins." 

The  stable  sergeant,  who  was  carrying  a  saddle, 
dropped  it.  Had  he  not  been  stooping  he  would 
have  observed  something  very  like  a  wink  on  the 
most  military  countenance  in  America.  It  was 
directed  at  Tommy. 

"Good-by,  Sergeant  Gray,"  said  the  pretty  girl, 
holding  out  her  hand.  "I — I  think  you  are  the 
bravest  person !  And  you  will  write,  won't  you  ?" 

"I  wish  I  was  as  sure  of  my  commission." 

The  stable  sergeant  swallowed  hard. 

"But  you'll  get  that  now,  of  course.  I'll  go 
right  in  and  tell  Uncle  Jimmy." 

"Oh,  I  say!"  protested  Sergeant  Gray.  "You 
— mustn't  do  that,  you  know." 

"Aw,  rats !"  muttered  the  stable  sergeant ;  and 
clutching  the  saddle  furiously  moved  away.  Up 


23V2  HOURS'  LEAVE 79 

the  road  he  met  a  military  policeman,  and  stopped 
him. 

"Better  grab  that  fellow."  He  indicated  Ser 
geant  Gray  behind  him,  now  shamelessly  holding 
the  hand  of  the  general's  niece. 

"Why?" 

"Awol,"  replied  the  stable  sergeant  darkly — > 
being  military  brevity  for  absent  without  leave. 
"And  you  might  observe,"  he  added,  "that  he 
isn't  in  uniform." 

The  girl  got  into  the  little  car.  Hat  in  hand, 
eyes  full  of  many  things  he  dared  not  put  into 
words,  Sergeant  Gray  of  the  Headquarters  Troop 

of  the th  Division  watched  her  start  the  car, 

smile  into  his  eyes  and  move  away.  He  came 
to  at  a  touch  on  his  arm. 

"What're  you  doing  in  that  outfit?"  demanded 
the  M.  P.  sharply. 

"Having  an  acute  attack  of  heart  trouble,  if 
you  want  to  know,"  said  the  sergeant,  staring 
after  the  little  car. 

"Have  to  arrest  you." 

"Oh,  go  to  it !"  said  the  sergeant  blithely.  "I'm 
used  to  it  now.  Look  here,"  he  added,  "your 
name's  not  Joe,  by  any  chance?" 

"You  know  my  name,"  said  the  M.  P.  sourly. 

"Sorry,"  reflected  the  sergeant.     "Don't  mind 


80 23l/2  HOURS'  LEAVE 

if  I  call  you  Joe,  do  you?  Always  like  the  men 
who  arrest  me  to  be  called  Joe.  It's  lucky." 

He  stopped  and  looked  back ;  the  little  car  was 
almost  out  of  sight. 

"All  right,  Joe,  old  top !"  he  said  blithely.  And 
he  sang  in  a  deep  bass 

"Where  do  we  go  from  here,  boysf 
Where  do  we  go  from  here? 
All  the  way  from  Broadway  to  the 
Jersey  City  pier." 

His  voice  died  away.  In  his  eyes  there  was 
suddenly  that  curious  blend  of  hope  and  sadness 
which  shines  from  the  faces  of  those  who  love 
and,  loving,  must  go  away  to  war. 

"Wait  a  minute,  Joe,"  he  said. 

And,  turning,  looked  back  again.  The  little 
car  was  still  in  sight,  and  the  girl,  standing  up 
in  it,  waved  her  hand. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


|U,   Jan  V4  l( 
Jul  1961 


AUQ4     ,96t 

Au£l463 
Ju!2    55' 

Aur  2C  5  5 


)   "7 


9  JUL  '84 


,, 


Book  Slip-10wi-5,'58(372/7s4)4280 


College 
Library 


UCLA-College  Library 

PS  3535  R47m 


L  005  746  604  7 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FA 


A    001206297 


